The Nightmare That Is Marriage
by Black Sun Upon An Icy Sky
Summary: Arranged marriages always work out... or maybe not. When Rukia is faced with her impending marriage to the heir to Soul Society's throne she has already accepted losing her independence. That is, until she actually meets him.
1. The Samurai Wife

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**Marriage is a great institution, but I'm not ready for an institution yet.**_

_Mae West_

**-o-**

**First Anniversary: **_The Samurai Wife_

**-o-**

Kuchiki Rukia could only stare at her brother in utter shock and disbelief, the tea in front of her forgotten as she started to tremble in her seat, slowly processing the information he had just given her. "Wha... what did you just say, Nii-sama?"

The stoic Kuchiki took a long, slow sip from his own tea cup, staring at her with impassive gray eyes. "I said the elders and I have finally agreed on arranging your marriage. Be happy, the head of the royal family approached us and requested you as bride for his young son, you can be honored, Rukia."

"B-but... you _can't_-"

"We can and we have. Don't even think about starting a discussion. You are to meet the prince tomorrow at noon. Good bye, Rukia."

"But Nii-sama-"

"Good bye, Rukia."

The petite raven-head stood, still shell-shocked and angry. With a curt bow she turned on her heels, leaving her brother alone in the room.

Kuchiki Byakuya took another sip from his tea before turning towards the door opposite the one Rukia had taken only moments before. "Inform the king that the news have been delivered, and to tell his delinquent son to better behave himself tomorrow."

Behind the door, the servant quickly left the mansion, running off towards the quarters of the royal family, while they stayed in Seireitei.

Inside the Kuchiki house the gray-eyed man took another sip, thinking.

Should he really fear the king's son's reaction?

After all, Rukia could throw very annoying hissy fits.

Byakuya shrugged, and filled himself another cup of tea. Only time would tell.

**-o-**

Rukia stared blankly at the mirror, her arms outstretched as two maids fixed the formal and uncomfortable kimono on her body. It was made of dark green silk, the hem adorned by gold fabric and an eloquent, ruby rose pattern went up to her elbows and her hip, leaving her upper arms and her chest in only green and gold. Her feet were in green fabric shoes, and one of the maids fixed her hair in a high bun, as she had made it a habit of letting it grow after the Quincy war.

The woman winced when the maid put a heavy ornament made of silver and emeralds in her coiffed hair, the weight pulling at her hair, but she didn't complain, not even when the second maid stood in front of her and applied, in her opinion, too much make up on her pale face. Rukia blinked, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

Her skin was even paler now, courtesy to the thirty layers of creamy make up applied on her. The maid had put dark green eye shadow on her eye lids, but not as excessively as she had been with the rest of her face, the black eyeliner and mascara giving her eyes a sultry look. Her plumb lips shone with light pink lip gloss, her cheeks dusted with light pink as well. Rukia sighed. She looked like a doll.

And she just didn't do doll.

"Are you finally done?" The young Kuchiki couldn't hold back the annoyance in her voice, and the two maids quickly scrambled away, knowing she was _this_ close to breaking point. Rukia sighed and slowly walked towards the tall mirror before her, her right hand, dwarfed by the long sleeve, came up to rest on the smooth, cold surface. Her eyes quivered, but she suppressed her tears.

_So this is it?_

The woman staring back at her didn't resemble her in the slightest. She was faced with a perfect samurai wife, a trophy to be shown off in public. But she wasn't an accessory, she was a warrior. She was independent, strong and stubborn. How was she supposed to hide her entire personality for the rest of her life?

She blinked her purple eyes, and took a shaky breath.

_Is this really it?_

Her tiny hands balled into tight fists, and she grit her teeth, glaring at her fake reflection in the mirror. "Why me?"

"Rukia."

Her gaze shot up, her angry violet eyes meeting her brother's calm gray ones in the mirror. "It is time," he said simply, and Rukia swallowed thickly, turning around to follow him out of the room, about to seal her fate.

**-o-**

_"HOW CAN YOU JUST MARRY HER OFF TO SOME STRANGER?"_

_Abarai Renji's voice was furious, and for once in his life he did not care that the man in front of him could - and probably **would** \- slice his throat clean open without breaking a sweat. Kuchiki Byakuya didn't blink as he stared at his second-in-command with impassive eyes, secretly impressed at his Fukutaichô's guts._

_Albeit not pleased._

_With a calm that was almost scary - scratch that, Renji thought, it definitely **was** scary - the clan leader put his quill on the desk, folding his hands in front of him slowly, and fixed him with a stare. "This arrangement was made for her **because** the groom is no stranger to her."_

_Red eyebrows met in a deep scowl, and he grit his teeth in anger. "What is that supposed to mean? Rukia isn't close enough to anybody to agree to an arranged marriage!"_

_Gray eyes regarded him suspiciously, thin lips forming a frown. "I have the inkling feeling you aren't asking out of concern for my sister, Abarai."_

_The older man took a secret pleasure in seeing the Shinigami's face turn just as red as his hair, the other's lips parting, as if to retort, but he closed them shut, turning on his heals and storming off towards the office door._

_"Abarai."_

_The man in question stopped, his right hand hovering at the side of the shoji door, about to rip it open and leave._

_"Do not meddle in affairs that do not concern you."_

**-o-**

As he had thought, the red-head hadn't dared to approach them again about the matter, even though Byakuya had the suspicion his lieutenant was somewhere off in Rukon, drinking. He shrugged, mentally. As long as this entire ordeal went over without incidents he could relax at the end of the day.

They stopped in front of a large mansion, larger even than the Kuchiki's, Rukia noted bitterly, and he stared at her, intently. "Are you ready?"

The young Shinigami held her head up high, her eyes determined and challenging as she stared at the huge estate. "Do I look like I'm not?"

With that she stepped past him, and pushed the front door of the mansion open, walking towards her golden cage.

**-o-**

The royal elder looked up from her conversation with her brother, golden eyes fixing on the door as were the rest of the assembled clan elders, six in total, awaiting the arrival of the two Kuchiki siblings. Kimiko, a woman having retained the appearance of a mid-fifty, with black hair streaked silver, frowned at the thought of the feisty noble woman. "I cannot see reason behind my nephew's choice. His son deserves better than that."

Her brother stared solemnly. "He will have thought about it carefully, Nee-san."

The black-haired woman huffed, her eyes defiant. "He never thinks _anything_ through, Aniki. He's just so _impulsive_."

"That runs in our family, Kimiko," spoke an elderly woman from the far corner of the room, the oldest living member of the clan. When she stepped from the shadows a shiver ran down the others back, as her eyes were nothing but white mirrors. She was blind. "I am sure he knows what is best for his son, don't you agree?"

The woman in front of her frowned, but bowed her head, angry. "Of course, Chiyo-sama."

In that moment the doors swung open, revealing one Kuchiki Rukia, glaring defiantly at the assembled clan elders. Behind her Kuchiki Byakuya stepped up, putting a calming, but at the same time warning, hand on her left shoulder, and the violet-eyed woman tensed, before letting out a tired sigh and relaxing, walking into the room with her brother close on her heels.

The blind elder, Chiyo, turned towards the petite woman, a smile on her aged face. "It is my pleasure, Rukia-san."

The Shinigami in question looked up at the old woman, not flinching upon meeting the blind, sightless eyes. "I am not okay with this."

Chiyo's smile didn't waver, and it started to unnerve Rukia. "Of course not."

"I won't become some trophy wife."

"I'm sure."

"I'm stubborn."

"I can imagine."

"That prince will have hell with me."

"Only serves him right."

Rukia's left eye twitched, and she was damn close to snapping at the woman, but refrained from doing so. Was this woman going to agree with everything she said? Before she could speak up again Chiyo stirred, turning her head slightly towards the small, closed door behind her, her smile widening.

No one in the room was prepared to hear a deep voice resonating throughout the chamber, furious and all-too-familiar.

_"Let go of me, goat chin! This is child abuse!"_

**-o-**

_This is some sort of art trade - does writing fall under art trade? - with my boyfriend, who in turn writes a mermaid!Ichigo fic for me. We brainstormed on this together, and we came up with quite a few, if I dare say so myself, interesting ideas, both fluffy and lemony! (Trust me, I **loved** making him blush!)_

_I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and if so, take the three seconds to leave a review, cuz they make me happy!_

_Before I get any complaints, this was mostly written before the stupid "twist" that Isshin is a Shiba and Masaki was Ryuken's cousin, and I refuse to acknowledge that stupid bullshit in my story._


	2. Father Knows Best - so Shut the Hell up!

**The Nightmare That is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**A marriage is always made up of two people who are prepared to swear that only the other one snores.**_

_Terry Pratchett_

**-o-**

**Second Anniversary: **_Father Knows Best - so Shut the Hell up!_

**-o-**

Amber eyes blinked slowly, uncomprehending. Kurosaki Isshin stared at his son expectantly but he only looked back at him blankly. "Run that by me again?"

And the black-haired Shinigami felt the unbelieving urge to slap his forehead. "I just told you that you are the heir to the throne of Soul Society, and all you can say is "run that by me again"?"

Kurosaki Ichigo scoffed, pinning him with a hard glare. "What do you expect? Me jumping around in joy? As if. Besides," and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, staring intently at his father. "You didn't tell me this for nothing, right?" When Isshin stayed silent Ichigo sat up straighter, glaring fiercely. "I'm right, aren't I?"

To the orange-head's surprise did the older man avert his gaze from his piercing stare, and sighed. "You see... since I refused to ascend the throne to take care of Yuzu and Karin... well... you are the next King, and the elders of our clan already arranged your marriage-"

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

The furious orange-head sprung from his seat in the living room, glaring heatedly at his father. "As if I'd go through with that!"

To his later chagrin did Isshin anticipate that reaction. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that.

That is why in that moment Urahara Kisuke jumped up from behind the couch, syringe in hand, and injected the furious teen with a sedative.

Isn't fatherly love great?

**-o-**

When Kurosaki Ichigo awoke, his first instinct was to pummel his father.

His second was to go Hollow 2 point 0 and demolish Seireitei.

And his third was to puke.

He sat up, right hand flying to his mouth as his stomach churned with the aftereffects of Urahara's sedative. Not bothering to take in his surroundings or attire, ignoring the assembled people as well, the sick teen ran to the next door, hoping it was the restroom.

Thank god it was.

His head, currently bend over in the toilet, rose from his reconnaissance with his breakfast, turning around, tinted green, to glare weakly at his father. "You planned this, didn't you?"

Isshin shrugged, his grin never wavering. "Maybe not the... well, what you are doing there, but yes, pretty much."

Glare.

Glare.

Glare.

"Pervert."

The older man pouted at his son. "Why am I a pervert?" Amber eyes only indicated to his new attire, consisting of a navy blue formal male kimono, tied together with a black obi. The hem was equally black and, unbeknownst to the orange-head, was a black insignia on his back, showing his status. The Kurosaki grinned slyly, already moving to run out of the room. "I left that to Yoruichi, son."

He was out before Ichigo had the chance to get his bearings and kill him.

**-o-**

_"Let go of me, goat chin! This is child abuse!"_

His father had him by his arms, pushing him down the hallway towards the meeting room, smirking broadly. "Come on now, Ichigo, don't exaggerate! This will be fun!"

"You call getting married to a complete stranger _fun_? Are you stupid-"

Before he could finish the sentence did Isshin open the door and practically threw his son inside, disappearing as fast as his feet would carry him. The orange-head, not expecting this, thus landed on top of a very tiny _something_ knocking both of them over.

Kurosaki Ichigo blinked, groaning lightly as he brought his left hand, as the right was currently busy getting a grip on the floor boards, up to his forehead, rubbing the spot that had hit the ground, and closed his eyes, lightly pushing himself off the soft, little thing he had bumped into. And when he opened his eyes he was immediately met with... green? The green slowly morphed into purple, and he realized he had been staring at the closed eyelids of a woman.

Amber and violet blinked alike, staring at each other, not comprehending who the other was.

That is, for 30 seconds they didn't.

"YOU!"

**-o-**

They sat next to each other in absolute silence, arms crossed in front of their chests as the elders droned on about the terms of their, both shuddered, _union_, not daring to give each other the time of day.

This was just too fucked up. For the both of them.

About ten minutes into the meeting, however, Rukia couldn't stand it anymore.

"This is all your fault, Ichigo." There, plain and simple. Now she was happy.

But of course the strawberry wouldn't have that. "Eh? Where did _that_ come from, midget? If anything my stupid father is at fault here! Until this morning I didn't even know I'm a fucking _royal_ so don't you go around blaming me!" Speaking of which... where was the elder Kurosaki? Ichigo shook his head slightly. Whatever. "Besides, what's with all that war paint?"

Rukia stiffened, while Kimiko went on and on about their duty to "produce a male heir as soon as possible", and glared heatedly at the orange-head. "You know, Ichigo," she gave him an evil smirk. "A little bit of make up wouldn't hurt that thing you call face."

And on it went.

**-o-**

Kurosaki Kimiko stopped mid-sentence, her golden eyes wide as she stared at her nephew's son, practically screaming at his fiancée, who was yelling right back. Both were getting in each other's face, and the elder wouldn't have been surprised to find an electric current shooting between their eyes. "What the...? Were they even listening?"

"I doubt it," coughed her brother next to her, and she glared. "Not. Helping."

The eldest Kurosaki smiled lightly, having heard everything about their relationship by Isshin long ago, and walked towards them, slowly, and laid a calming hand on Ichigo's shoulder, who snapped his gaze towards her. "Ichigo, dear, show your fiancée some respect."

The orange-haired teen glared fiercily, first at the blind woman - knowing full well she couldn't see his glare worth shit - and then back towards the tiny woman currently sticking out her tongue towards him. "I'm the prince, dammit! I'll yell at my wife when I want to!"

At his words, a very tiny fist made contact with his jaw, and the young prince toppled over, blinking rapidly. Violet eyes stared murderously down at him as Kuchiki Rukia towered over him, her hands in tight fists and her reiatsu flaring around her. "YOUR WIFE?" she yelled at the tops of her lungs, before jumping on him, grabbing a fistful of his orange mane.

"I'LL SHOW YOU WHO THE FUCKING WIFE IN THIS RELATIONSHIP IS!"

After that, only a girlish scream was heard.

**-o-**

_I feel bad about these chapters being so short... but meh!_


	3. Red Ribbon

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**There's only one way to have a happy marriage and as soon as I learn what it is I'll get married again.**_

_Clint Eastwood_

**-o-**

**Third Anniversary: **_Red Ribbon_

**-o-**

_Three Weeks Later..._

Kuchiki Rukia found it to be an irony of life to find herself in front of a huge mirror yet again, surrounded by a horde of eager maids arranging her everything to suit the royal wedding - _her_ wedding - to be taking place in a mere three hours from now. The young woman sighed, tired of the past weeks and her busy schedule, anxious to get the wedding and the following reception over with quickly, only to balk at the realization of what was to come _after _the reception.

The consummation.

She gulped heavily at the thought of performing such an act with her best friend of all people, fuck the adage to "marry your best friend because it's easier to be comfortable with each other"! There was just no way for her to ever feel comfortable with Ichigo touching... her or... or... The young Kuchiki shuddered, appalled. No, there was just no way she could do this with him, and she really doubted he had other thoughts on that matter. Or maybe the orange-head hadn't even thought about the wedding night at all - or didn't dare to - since he was such a huge prude, but she shrugged that thought off. No use analyzing things dead at this point, anyways.

There was a knock behind her and she turned her head, much to the chagrin and rising protests of her maids, her translucent eyes fixing on the elaborate door. "Come on in." To her surprise an orange-haired teenage girl stepped into the dressing room, her gray eyes cast downwards and her slim hands clasped in front of her, her posture slouched. Delicate, black brows met between Rukia's eyes and her lips curved down. With a resolute tug she untangled herself from the maids, ignoring their shouts of protest, and waved them off. "Leave us alone. Now." The young women did so, reluctantly, and as soon as they left through the same door Inoue Orihime had come from, Rukia turned around in a swirl of lose fabric and hair.

A sad smile made its way on her red-painted lips, and the young woman tilted her head slightly, violet eyes resigned to their fate. "If you're here to congratulate me, Inoue, don't bother, really. This is just a formality," she lowered her head, her long bangs covering her eyes. "This is just an arrangement."

They were quiet for half a second, before Inoue gripped her fingers tighter, her voice shaking slightly. "Is there any way... you could get out of it, Kuchiki-san?"

The Shinigami in question stiffened momentarily, her cerulean eyes widening at the question, before she slowly raised her head, staring at the orange-head, flabbergasted. "W-wha... excuse me?"

Gray eyes steeled themselves, and Inoue frowned, marring her features. "You heard me, is there any way for you to get out of this?"

The bride blinked twice, her lips parting slightly, but then she got a grip on herself and frowned herself. "What has gotten into you to ask this _now_? Besides," her eyes dimmed again. "It's not like I haven't tried already." With that she turned around again, thinking the conversation to be over with, until the teenager spoke up again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I love him, Kuchiki-san."

The black-haired Shinigami's insides reeled, her entire body going stiff. She fisted her tiny hands, and her pearly-white teeth bit into her bottom lip painfully, as she stared at herself in the mirror, thankful Inoue had averted her own gaze to the side.

At first there was shock following the confession of the other woman, closely followed by sadness, brought by the situation at hand. But what followed, sent her reeling yet again.

Jealousy.

Why she felt this, she didn't know, and she didn't care. It had been such a long time, so many decades since she'd last felt the green-eyed monster residing in a dark cave inside her guts, that she didn't immediately recognize the feeling as what it actually was, but when she did, it scared her deeply.

She had no reason to feel jealous.

But Inoue had every right to be.

Rukia pushed the gnawing feeling aside quickly, as it was closely followed by another one, this time a feeling she deemed far more fitting for the situation at hand. Guilt.

Yes, she decided, guilt fitted the occasion far better, _her _situation better.

The bride bit her lips again, and with a heavy sigh and her heart thumping madly in her chest, she turned her head around, gazing at Inoue sadly. "I... I'm sorry, I really am. But please, just... just leave." She closed her eyes, turning her head back around.

A huge weight lifted off her shoulders when she heard the doors open and close.

**-o-**

Tears were streaming down her flushed pink cheeks as she ran down the hallway, away from the changing room, not giving her way a single gaze or thought.

All of this was just unfair to her, unfair and painful.

Why did her second-best-friend have to be married off to her one, true love?

Continuing to indulge in her self-pity she hid her eyes with her left hand, covering them, not daring to show anybody her broken form. Inadvertently, she covered her own view as well, promptly running into one Ishida Uryû, holding two cups of bowl. He gazed at her, worried, and bent down to her form on the ground, where she had fallen only seconds before. "Are you alright... Inoue-san?" He knew it was a stupid question, but his manners made him ask it anyways.

She only shook her head like a sulking child, hiding her tear-streaked face from his view. The black-haired Quincy smiled sadly, holding one of the drinks out to her. The orange-head sniffed, staring at the glass through her slightly-parted fingers, before gazing at him, confused. "Here, I'm sure you'll feel better after drinking a little."

Inoue sniffed again, wiping her face free of any remaining wetness, and smiled weakly up at him. "Thank you, Ishida-kun."

"No problem, Inoue-san."

Unbeknownst to both of them, had one joyous father spiked every single non-alcoholic beverage at the entire pre-wedding party with high percentage vodka.

**-o-**

Rukia was standing in front of the mirror, regarding herself and frowning at the overuse of make up the maids had applied on her. "War paint", as Ichigo would put it, the thought of which brought a small, almost invisible smile to her face. At least he knew how to make her feel better, even if he wasn't there. She sighed as she sat down on the small step stool in front of the reflecting surface, her head in her hands.

"How am I supposed to go through with this?"

The young Kuchiki's head jerked up when a loud bang resounded in the small yet elaborate dressing room, the door of which had been slammed into the wall, and a furious and flushed Inoue Orihime stood in the doorway, and even at the distance Rukia could smell the alcohol reeking off the young woman in waves.

The bride was flabbergasted, and just stared at the inebriated woman in shock, her gray eyes glazed over from booze. "I-Inoue... What are you-"

"You are horrible, Kuchiki-san."

Rukia took a step back, frowning. "W... what do you mean? Look, you're clearly drunk so just let me get someone to-"

"If you really were his friend, Kuchiki-san," the woman in question was impressed by her lack of slurring, staring at her unable to do anything. "If you really were his friend you wouldn't ruin his life like that."

Ignoring the fact she was put up to this just as much as he was, Rukia glared heatedly, the slight sting to her heart going by her with no further notice. "Well," she began, voice more hostile and aggressive than she had intended to. "What do you want me to do? Kill myself?"

It had been a rhetorical question by all means, so when Inoue responded, Rukia was surprised, and when she heard her response, she was shocked to the core. Later on, she'd blame it all on the teen's inebriation, but right then, she was only hurt.

"It'd be better for everyone if you did," with that she left, livid, leaving the young bride hurt and confused in the dressing room.

**-o-**

With a soft thud Kuchiki Rukia sat down on the low step stool once again, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shook softly, tears running down her cheeks. She didn't care about her make up, or her attire at all, and she definitely didn't care about being the perfect samurai wife right then. All she wanted was to cry over her fucked-up life, as she felt everything around her crumble to pieces.

It wasn't until strong, large hands rested themselves on her fragile shoulders, did she look up, only to have her own violet eyes meet with soft amber irises, a sad smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Hey."

The young woman sniffed, and tried to wipe her tears away, only to have his huge hands encircle her small wrists, and he shook his head softly, reaching over to the make up table to get a few tissues. Returning his attention to her, he started to not only dry her moist cheeks, but to also remove her make up, which had been smeared all over her face, leaving colorful streaks.

The violet-eyed bride sniffed again, smiling slightly. "You know, the groom isn't supposed to see his bride before the wedding, baka."

Ichigo just gave a non-committal grunt, continuing his task. "I'm glad it's you."

Rukia jerked her head up, staring at him with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted. The orange-head took the opportunity to wipe the blood-red lipstick off her plump lips. "What did you just say?"

"I'm glad it's you I'm going to marry, Rukia. I... I'm just glad to have you beside me in all this drama." The smile on his face became less sad, and now reached his eyes as well. They stared at each other for a while, during which Ichigo finished wiping away the rest of her make up.

He sighed playfully, ruffling her hair slightly, yet not enough to ruin her hairdo, and moved to stand up. "Just don't expect me to come and tend to your every whim whenever you cry, midget. This was a one-time thing." When the young groom had reached the second door of the room, the one through which he had watched the earlier ordeal and entered the room, he stopped, and looked back at Rukia over his shoulder. "Now I can go through with this."

The young Kuchiki - soon-to-be-Kurosaki - smiled as she knew what he didn't say out loud.

_Now I know we'll be alright._

**-o-**

The audience was chatting animatedly, waiting for the bride to be brought in as the groom sat idly in front of the priest, his eyes transfixed on the door through which his best friend was to be brought in by her brother-in-law. He gulped, nervous, as he averted his gaze to his knees, gripping his hands in tight fists. A murmuring went through the rows of assembled guests, and he slowly raised his gaze back towards the door, his breathe faltering.

He hadn't given her looks much consideration when he visited her earlier, consoling her after Inoue's drunken interlude, but now, with nothing else to focus on, he felt all air getting sucked out of his gut.

Her hair was made up in a traditional bun, and she had refrained from applying new make up, for which he was grateful. She looked stunning anyways. The basic layer of her kimono was snow white, the main cover a deep burgundy, patterned with golden lotus flowers, the hem a raven black. The obi of the kimono a deep black as well, threads of pure gold woven through the fabric.

Kuchiki Rukia looked stunning to him.

When she and her brother finally reached the high podium in front of the audience, Ichigo stood up, helping her sit down in the tight clothing, before bowing to Byakuya and sitting down himself. A murmur went through the rows of people as Rukia's unadulterated face registered in their minds.

"Insolence," whispered one of the Kurosaki elders, but quickly quieted down when Isshin threw her a heated glare. No one was going to insult his future daughter-in-law if he could help it.

As soon as Kuchiki Byakuya had taken his seat amongst the first row of the audience, the murmurs died down into hushed silence, as the two to-be-wed looked at each other, a kind of dread behind their neutral gazes only they themselves could fully fathom.

The geriatric priest cleared his throat, and two servants stepped up towards the podium, Sode no Shirayuki, in Shikai, carried by the one left of the audience, and Tensa Zangetsu carried by the one to their right. They held the swords high over their heads, towards the respective owners, and they took them without a second's hesitation. Ichigo and Rukia gripped their swords with their left hands, and without breaking their gaze, smoothly cut through the right palm of their counterpart, blood running down the blades and their wrists.

Tensa Zangetsu and Sode no Shirayuki were put in front of their bent knees, and in a swirl of hands and fabric did the two Shinigami press their cut palms together, the blood mingling as they intertwined their fingers. The priest bent down, a long blood red ribbon in his wrinkled, long fingers. With a speed betraying his age he bound their wrists and palms together tightly, the wounds meshing together with greater force now.

Something deep in their guts burned, shooting up their arms and into each others palm as their Reiatsu first mingled, then combined fully and the ribbon started to glow in an eerie light. In a burst of light and Reiatsu the ribbon split in half, wrapping around their wrists like a wedding band, merging with their skin.

They knew it'd stay there forever.

That knowledge didn't keep them from slightly gaping at the display, staring at their wrists, the cuts continuing to bleed.

The priest's voice, like old papyrus paper, reached their ears only through a thick veil, and it took both of them a while to grasp what he was saying. A faint blush marred their cheeks, and Ichigo gulped, scowling, as he reached for the back of Rukia's head with his left, unbleeding, hand. Breathing "The fuck, bride my ass," he tugged hard on Rukia's coiffed hair, smashing their lips together in a hard kiss, sending the crowd into an uproar.

**-o-**

_In case you are wondering, yes, this will just be mindless fluff, and the occasional mature chapter._


	4. Wedding Night

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**I love being married. It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.**_

_Rita Rudner_

**-o-**

**Fourth Anniversary: **_Wedding Night_

**-o-**

Kurosaki Ichigo sat in silence at the bar of the huge hall their wedding reception was held in, trailing the rim of his glass with Tullamore Dew - he had asked for something strong but not to the extend that he'll cough it up and drop dead - his gaze solemn and expression contemplating. Rukia and he hadn't talked since their kiss, and when the reception started they had begun to avoid each other entirely. He took the glass in his right hand and lifted it to his lips, emptying the glass off the amber alcohol. As his sleeve dropped from his wrist his gaze locked on the ruby band burned into his skin, like a scar, taunting him.

It was his collar.

With a sigh he put the glass on the counter, waving the bartender for a refill. His left thumb found its way to the inside of his wrist, rubbing the skin roughly, his brows furrowing in a frown. The skin felt no different from the rest, but he knew it symbolized the loss of his freedom.

"How is the newlywed feeling? Excited?"

Golden-brown eyes flashed to the newcomer, startled it turned out to be one infamous - and strangely sober - Matsumoto Rangiku. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited, smarty pants."

A light blush marred his tanned cheeks at his own stupid question, and he coughed before taking a sip from his refilled drink. The blonde raised a thin eyebrow. "I didn't know you drink."

She received a lazy shrug in response, the rim of the glass still against his lips as he stared blankly ahead. "I don't. This is an exception."

The Fukutaichô stared at him, eyes scrutinizing, as she pushed her arms forward on the top of the bar, leaning on them, her face turned towards him. "Are you sad?"

The young prince stopped in his tracks, the glass tilted towards his lips. He put it back down on the bartop and turned his body and attention fully towards the inquisitive woman. "I don't know, you tell me. Barely a month ago I was preparing to graduate high school, found out I was a fucking prince, and got forced to marry my best friend. What do _you_ think?"

Matsumoto sat up and stared at him, serious. "I can imagine how hard this is on you, on both of you, but... just... I'm sure you'll make this work somehow." She smiled at her poor attempt, and pivoted in her seat. "Sorry, that was probably the worst advise in history. See you, Ichigo!" With that she stood, and vanished into the crowd.

Just when he was about to turn back to his drink did his father's boisterous voice echo throughout the reception hall, freezing his blood in his veins.

"Come on, Rukia-chan! I want to have a father-daughter dance with my beautiful third daughter!" Said "daughter" was red-faced, and tried her best to politely shrug him off, but his grip on her was tight and secure.

"No, really, Isshin-san-"

"It's Daddy!"

"Yes, well, if you insist, _Daddy_, I really just want to sit down and rest a little bit, I don't feel like dancing at all-"

"Rukia-chan!"

She was just about to speak up again when she felt a strong, yet gentle grip on her right wrist, exactly where the red band marred her pale skin, and she was suddenly pulled into a mass of warmth, enveloped by a spicy, yet familiar, scent. "Dad, I think you are overdoing it, don't you think? She said no, period."

Rukia's heart paused in her chest momentarily, her plumb lips parted as she craned her neck back to look at Ichigo, who stood behind her, glaring at his father over her head, his hand on her wrist tight but not painful.

Her blush darkened, and she quickly averted her flustered expression.

Isshin was just about to retort when a cold aura enclosed them, and one Kuchiki Byakuya glared chillingly at the man. "May I talk to you in private, _Isshin-san_?" Said man only let out a scared, high-pitched "Eep!" before running away, the gray-eyed noble high on his heels.

The young wife felt the hand on her wrist relax, and could feel his thumb trace small patterns on the red band of skin. He chuckled, and it sent vibrations through her as he turned her around, smiling lightly. "Good your brother showed up, whatever that stick-up-his-ass will do, is much worse than anything I could ever come up with."

Violet eyes narrowed and she slapped his chest playfully, a smile of her own coming to her lips. Ichigo blushed, extending his other hand to her. "May I have this dance, Kurosaki-san?"

She blinked, blushing at how he called her, and hesitantly took his offered hand. The one holding her wrist wrapped around her slim waist, pressing her tightly against his body.

And with that they started their shy dance, hesitant smiles on both of their faces.

**-o-**

"What! You would make your wife sleep on the floor?"

They were in their bedroom, arguing. Their eyes were locked on each other, lightning flashing between them as both refused to give in.

"There's a sofa, midget!"

"Common courtesy dictates you offer up your bed!"

"I don't give a shit. I'm the prince, I get the fucking bed."

And their glaring match continued.

**-o-**

In the darkness of a nightly Seireitei, a lone man walked along its streets, swaying and laughing drunkenly. The noise he made caused annoyance whenever he crossed paths with someone, screaming at the tops of his lungs, slurring.

"Finally, Masaki! Our son has finally become a man!"

And on he went on his merry way.

**-o-**

The petite, black-haired woman sighed in resignation, too tired from the day's events to argue with her husband any further, as she made her way to the couch on the side of the bedroom. Ichigo meanwhile happily slipped under the soft covers of the huge king-sized bed, snuggling into the pillows. Across the room his annoyed wife glared at the back of his head, fuming.

"You're an ass."

When he didn't respond she huffed angrily, turning around and trying to get as comfortable under the covers as possible.

Midnight had long since passed when Ichigo got annoyed from his wife's relentless tossing and turning in her sleep. Deep in his gut he could feel the guilt twist his insides, and he sighed, trying his best to suppress that feeling.

Huffing, the orange-head sat up, turning around and glaring at Rukia on the other side of the room. "Oi, midget." She only tossed more, and he growled, jumping off the bed and stalking over to her. With a resolute tug he threw the blankets covering her off the couch and onto the floor, and his wife jerked up, glaring heatedly at him. "What? Did you decide I'm unworthy of the couch now? Want me to sleep on the floor, you ass?"

The orange-head growled, glaring at her before grabbing her wrist and dragging her off the couch towards the bed. She struggled in his grasp, screaming obscenities at him until he picked her up and tossed her onto the soft mattress, climbing in after her. She was just about to sit up when he grabbed her wrists and pinned her down, amber eyes fiery. "Your noise is keeping me up. You can sleep in here tonight, it's big enough anyways. This is a _one-time-thing_, midget, remember that."

With that said he got off of her and scooted to the far side of the bed, snuggling back into the covers with his back turned towards her. "Now shut up and sleep."

Rukia stared at his back for a short while, before turning away from him, burying her face in the pillow, absentmindedly taking in his scent still lingering on the pillows.

_Baka._


	5. Of the Birds and the Bees

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**My husband and I didn't sign a pre-nuptial agreement. We signed a mutual suicide pact.  
**Roseanne Barr_

**-o-**

**Fifth Anniversary: **_Of the Birds and the Bees_

**or: **_How Isshin gave them The Talk_

**-o-**

She felt unbelievably warm and at peace as she lay in the soft pillows of her comfy bed, nestled against something hard yet pleasant. A strong arm was wrapped around her waist, and its grip tightened around her as she snuggled deeper into the nice-smelling warmth, a small smile grazing her lips. She wanted this feeling to last, distracting her from the past weeks and the awful ordeals she had to endure.

But life sucked.

"Good morning, Ichigo!"

The warmth around her disappeared and a loud crash fully awoke her from her dazed slumber. The newly-wed Rukia sat up in the warm sheets and her purple eyes widened at the sight before her. The orange-head, who, she realized as a crimson blush crept up her cheeks, had been the warm thing hugging her tight just seconds ago, stood next to their bed, hair more disheveled than usual and brown eyes still dark and bleary from sleep, staring down on something squirming against his left foot.

The "something" soon turned out to be his father, who seemed more than surprised and upset to find them fully clothed. "Why aren't you giving me grandchildren already, you useless son!" Ichigo didn't answer, instead he picked his father up by the collar, throwing him towards (and through) the half-closed shôji doors. Brown met purple for the first time that morning, and he too started to blush as realization dawned on him. The young shinigami coughed, averting his gaze and scratching the back of his head.

"Uh... how did you sleep?" Right when the words left his mouth he wished for them to return where they came from, namely the fiery pits of purgatory. What a godawful question to ask. He was dumb, dumb, dumb, and wished for the polished wooden floor to open and swallow him whole. Rukia's voice was slightly higher than normal when she answered and he knew he had embarrassed her with his thoughtless question.

"Good." Rukia cursed her voice, which had taken on a slightly squeaky frequency, and was about to resign to their awkward silence when a timid knock from the former door frame averted their grateful attention from each other.

There stood a frail, light-haired girl with shy, ocker-colored eyes, wearing a kimono too large on her petite, doll-like frame. "Itoko-san, the elders request your presence in the garden." The orange-head in question blinked, but nodded, following his young cousin out of the room. Before turning the corner he cast a last glance at Rukia still sitting in their bed, and smiled uneasily. "I... guess I'll see you later." She nodded curtly and he turned away. The last the black-haired woman heard from him was his request to repair their door.

She sweat-dropped.

_I wonder if this was the last time I heard that._

**-o-**

His great-aunt sat underneath the blooming sakura tree, sipping from a steaming cup of tea. To her right sat her brother, to her left the eldest of the clan. As Ichigo made his way towards the small group he wondered where the rest of his family members went, but then again, he didn't know any of them well enough to care for their presence anyways. Kimiko fixed him with her cold stare and slowly put down the tea cup in front of her, smiling unconvincingly. "Take a seat."

"I prefer to stand, thanks," was his curt response, his brown eyes returning her gaze equally as cold. He hadn't liked his father's aunt from the beginning, and that dislike had only deepened with time. She was cunning and heartless, as far as he had seen, and he knew she'd mean trouble from the moment they had met.

Her eyes narrowed slightly at his disobedience, but she quickly covered her dismay with a humorless chuckle. "You are a lot like your mother, my dear," her eyes bore into his as he clenched his teeth. "She had as little manners as you do."

"What do you want?" He wasn't in the mood for his great-aunt's crap, and planned to show her as clearly as possible.

To Kimoko's left the blind elder smiled into her teacup, amused. Isshin's uncle, too, had a hard time suppressing his amusement. The black-haired woman, however, grew more and more annoyed by the second.

"I was curious as to why you haven't consummated your marriage yet, my dear."

**-o-**

_I was curious as to why you haven't consummated your marriage yet, my dear._

The young prince grit his teeth as he walked down the hallway to their bedroom, his hands balled into fists. _Well, bitch, maybe because she's my goddamn best friend and you forced us into this ordeal, you cunning, stuck-up bi-_

He paused as he rounded the corner, staring through the hole that was once a door, amber eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief. "What the hell?" There, in the middle of the room, sat Rukia, tied to a chair and gagged, her purple eyes ablaze with fury. She mumbled something through the gag, and even though he couldn't make out her words, he knew what she was trying to say.

The next he knew his dad had clubbed him from behind, knocking him out.

Kurosaki Ichigo awoke with a headache, blinking his bleary eyes dazedly. The memory of his bound best friend came back just seconds later, his eyes darting around until his gaze fell onto his petite companion left to him, angrily pulling at her bindings. It was only when he moved to help her did he notice the ropes binding him as well, his head jerking around to his father noisily setting up a projector in front of them.

_What the fuck?_

As if Isshin read his thoughts did he turn around towards them, grinning from ear to ear. "So, as it is obvious you two kids are too naive in the ways of sex to give me grandchildren, I decided it was my fatherly duty to give you the talk."

Dead silence ensued, followed by even more forceful struggling and fervent blushes.

But all their attempts were in vain.

"Okay, so when two people love each other a lot or are just horny, they..."

Both of them prayed for a Hollow to bite Isshin's head off right then.

**-o-**

"... and you should definitely avoid having sex in the bath tub, hot water doesn't do any good, or standing. Better do it doggy style or classical, that makes it much more likely to knock third daughter-chan up. And-" But they didn't get to hear more of his ramblings as Rukia had managed to get out of her bindings, charging at Isshin like a bloodthirsty lioness.

**-o-**

That night both had been far too tired and embarrassed (and in Ichigo's case frightened) to argue over the bed and just fell into the soft pillows like dead weights, falling asleep almost immediately.

Rukia awoke with a start stroke midnight, as a shrill creek in the hallway echoed throughout the otherwise silent room. Instantly she turned to her left, rudely shaking her husband's shoulder. "Oi, Ichigo, wake up, you lazy ass."

The carrot-top in question only mumbled lowly under his breath before turning around and ignoring her.

He should have known better.

"And don't you dare come back here without finding the source of this noise, you jackass!"

With that she slammed the newly-repaired bedroom door closed behind him, leaving him to blearily stare into the darkness of the hallway.

_Bitch._

Ichigo sighed heavily. There was no helping it. Tired and irritated he went upon his not-so-merry way to find the culprit of his nightly quest.

Fiercely vowing to skin them alive.

**-o-**

Shihôin Yoruichi covered close to the floor of the hallway, spying through the slightly open door with one golden eye, her black tail swishing soundlessly over the polished wood as she watched the couple sleep in their bed, even in slumber as far apart as humanly possibly. She let out a silent sigh.

_Kids._

And to think she had agreed to spy on them sleeping. As if the two imbeciles even knew what sex meant. She growled lowly. _You owe me big time, Isshin._

The black cat watched the orange-head shift on the bed and, to get a better angle, cautiously moved forward, the door sliding to the side slightly, creeking from the poor repair.

_Fuck._

**-o-**

Ichigo yawned deeply as he walked down the dark hallway of the royal manor, staring at the wooden floor in front of him with a disinterest only capable of people too tired to give a fuck. _Damn that woman and her ridiculous strength._ He closed his honey-colored eyes briefly as another yawn crept up his throat. But it got stuck as his left foot caught onto something furry and soft, and it took all his years of shunpo to keep himself from falling on the ground.

The young shinigami turned around, his gaze falling onto the black feline covering to the ground, its yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. Ichigo frowned, growling lowly under his breath.

"Yoruichi..."

**-o-**

Violet eyes fluttered open as a deep, sleepdrunken voice reached her through the bedroom door. Rukia blinked, slowly sitting up in the bed and rubbing her right eye. _What the...?_ The newly-repaired door was yanked open with force as an irritated and very tired Ichigo stomped into their bedroom, a black ball of fur clutched in his right hand as he stormed towards the terrace, opening the sliding door and throwing the cat out. "And don't you dare come back here!"

Rukia stared at her husband as he crawled back into their bed and, too sleepy to argue or fight with her, he dragged her with him into the pillows, hugging her close as he sighed in content. "Don't worry about it, it was just some voyeur. Just sleep."

A faint blush crept up her cheeks as she adjusted in his arms, his even breathing soon lulling her to sleep as well.

**-o-**

Shihôin Yoruichi licked her aching paws as she glared at the two imbeciles in front of her, wearing blood-red scratch marks on their pained faces. She smirked. "Well, it seems they are doing a lot, just not what you'd like them to do, Isshin."

Said man whimpered as he held his marred face, slowly turning towards his old friend with a pout. "Kisuke..."

The blond scientist backed away slowly, shaking his head. "No, I know that face, no. I will not get your son up against me more, no."

"You will, or I will tell Yoruichi what you are hiding from her in the basement."

While Urahara Kisuke stiffened one black cat narrowed her eyes at the two men. "What is he talking about, my dear?"

"N-nothing. I will do whatever you want, almighty Isshin."

An evil smile spread over the black-haired man's face. "I figured."

Yoruichi would have nothing of it. "What is he talking about, dammit!"

But she didn't receive an answer as Isshin and a very reluctant Urahara conspired to spike the kids' food with loads of aphrodisiacs.

What could possibly go wrong?

**-o-**

_And so the fluff... uh, the plot thickens!_


	6. Consummation

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**A married couple are well suited when both partners usually feel the need for a quarrel at the same time.  
**Jean Rostand_

**-o-**

**Sixth Anniversary: **_Consummation_

**-o-**

A blush marred the cheeks of the young prince as he cast his gaze on his hands, fiddling with his fingers as he knelt in front of the oldest clan member, unsure where to begin. Eyes locking on the red mark, he started, voice quiet and nervous. "Uh... what exactly are these, anyways?" He pointed to the wedding band, and the smile of the blind woman never wavered.

"That's a very strong kido used for royal weddings. It symbolizes the fates of two souls bound together, even beyond death."

Ichigo paused, looking up at the woman with a frown. "Beyond death? What do you mean?"

Her smile unnerved him. "It means the two of you will find each other time and time again, in this life and every life to come."

So he was stuck with the midget for good. Oh joy.

Chiyo tilted her head, and her smile sounded in her voice. "Now, I am pretty sure this wasn't the reason you came here, my dear."

The teen's blush darkened, and he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "No... well... you see," he blushed at his poor choice of words, but continued. "I feel guilty. Rukia had to give up everything she worked for all her life, and was forced into this marriage because of my dad and his stupid ideas... I... just want to make it up to her, but I..."

"You don't know how?"

The orange-head nods solemnly, and the elder rests her hand on his shoulder in sympathy. "Maybe you should offer her something that she misses in your marriage, something she'd have in a voluntary one."

His face was now positively scarlet. "I'm not sleeping with her!"

The blind woman shakes her head and turns towards a small chest of drawers and Ichigo watched on quizzically as she took out a small red bundle of fabric, turning back towards him and handing the small package to him. He stared at it for a moment, then back up to her with furrowed brows. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"How about open it, for starters?"

Now he felt positively dumb.

Blushing anew he untied the tightly bound fabric, startled when a slim, silver ring came into view, and he just stared at it, unsure what to say.

"This was your mother's."

And suddenly, he knew just what to do.

**-o-**

The kitchen personnel flinched in unison when the young prince entered the large room reeking of food. He still felt weird when the servants bowed to him, but he knew that he had to get used to it. Uneasily, he spoke up. "Eto... who's the chef?" A huge woman stepped forward, her hair gray with age and sweat on her wrinkled forehead. Her lips were a thin line, but her eyes were large and sparkled with kindness. "That would be me, your Highness."

Ichigo hated that title, but thought it better than to object. "Would it be alright with you if Rukia and I dined in our room tonight?"

If possible the chef's eyes sparkled even more, and he just knew she was just like his father, maybe not related to him, but just like him in every way.

_Just fucking great._

"Why, of course, your Highness! Would you like it to be a bit more... _romantic_ perhaps?" At that every single head in the large kitchen turned to their conversation, and the women started giggling at his scarlet blush. He had been about to shout one of his infamous hell-nos - a habit the elders had tried to punch out of him, so to speak - when he paused, thinking. Absentmindedly twirling his mother's ring in his fingers he thought back to his conversation with Chiyo, and gulped heavily.

_I can just as well go all out, I guess._

Still blushing he nodded and to his horror did the older woman squeal in joy, clapping her hands together in front of her huge chest. "I already have an idea! If you'd like I could talk to the gardener! No romance without flowers, after all!"

"Uh... sure... why not..."

_What have I gotten myself into?_

With his face still blazing red the young prince waved the kitchen personnel good bye, quickly walking away from the embarrassing stares. Remembering something he turned around one last time before leaving, not meeting anybody's gaze. "Uh... please make sure there are lots of dumplings, they are her favorite." His face blazing red he finally left, and just when he'd closed the door behind him did one of the lower servants walk up to the kitchen chef, timid. "Are we still going to do what the elders and Isshin-sama requested?"

The old lady rolled her eyes and walked towards her own cooking spot. "Of course, you fool. Didn't you see his insane blush? If anyone needs help in the sack, it's them."

**-o-**

Rukia rubbed her temples as she walked towards hers and Ichigo's chambers, hissing at her tight kimono and the limited leg freedom she had in it. _Every now and then, fine, I can live with that, but wearing these annoying pieces of crap every fucking day will get me into a mental facility, for fuck's sake! _She was tired, mentally, from her seemingly endless discussions with Kimiko. The woman was aggravating, she had decided after a mere five minutes, aggravating, self-righteous and downright terrible. "Get on with it, she says. Conceive a male, she says. Behave like a lady, she says. If she talks to me like that ever again I'll show her how a motherfucking lady behaves!"

Ichigo was starting to rub off on her.

When she slid open the door to their private chambers her only thought was to fall onto the soft mattress of their bed and kill anybody foolish enough to wake her up.

Yes, she was thinking of Ichigo as the _anybody_, thanks for noticing.

The tired sigh she was about to release was stuck in her throat as her gaze fell on their dimly lid living room, the only light from the red candles on the low dining table and the setting sun shining through the half-opened terrace door visible from the open doorway to the bedroom. Rose petals were covering the tabletop, and the dinner the personnel had prepared looked delicious even in the low lighting. Rukia's eyes flashed to her best friend who'd walked towards her, pushing her fully into the room and closing the door behind her, a scarlet blush on his face which her own seemed desperate to match now.

"What the hell?"

Ichigo was rubbing off on her alright.

"W-well, I felt guilty because... because everything you've worked toward in your life was taken away from you because of me and... and I wanted to make it up to you somehow."

Rukia stared at him silently, then back to the dinner, and finally back to him. "Are there dumplings?"

He grinned, shyly, and put his right hand to her lower back, slowly guiding her to the table. "What kinda husband would I be if not?"

**-o-**

The black-haired woman frowned, putting her spoon down and raising her purple eyes up to meet her husband's nervous, and slightly annoyed, ocher orbs. "Stop tapping your fingers on the table, dammit."

The scowl that had been miraculously absent from his features this entire time returned with a vengeance and he growled lowly. "I wouldn't be doing that if you didn't take so long to finish your motherfucking desert."

"I thought this was supposed to be romantic and sweet! Why are you complaining now?"

"Because I wanted to propose to you, for fuck's sake!"

Rukia was taken aback, her lips parted in surprise. She quickly regained her composure, her frown deepening. "What are you talking about? We're already married, you idiot."

The young prince glared heatedly, his teeth clenched. "I _know_, I just wanted to do this _somewhat_ right and be just _a little_ romantic. Now don't make this anymore difficult for me and _finish that motherfucking ice cream_, midget." Heated daggers were flying between their eyes, and without breaking the eye contact Rukia pushed the remaining desert away, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, go on already."

The annoyed orange-head leaned back slightly, closing his eyes and taking a long, deep breath. Opening them again he reached into his left sleeve, taking out the small bundle Chiyo had given him. A new blush arose on his cheeks, and he slowly unwrapped the tiny bundle to reveal a slim, silver ring with a tiny amethyst. He found it difficult to meet her eyes as he offered her the heirloom. "It was my mom's."

Her husband's whispered words shocked her into a stunned silence, her left hand shaking as she held it out to him. The moment his fingers touched her skin she felt a hot burning shoot through her arm and throughout her body, the heat she felt almost unbearable. She only managed to hold back her startled gasp with years of training, pulse after pulse of ever hotter heat pulsing from her core. The coolness of the silver was little blessing to her sudden fever.

To her disdain did he grip her hand tighter, his fingers burning her skin like liquid fire. "Rukia... I... I just wanted to tell you that I meant what I said before the wedding, I'm really glad my dad chose you as my bride." His eyes shone golden in the candlelight and Rukia couldn't help but breathe a little harder as she stared at him in the flickering light, her own eyes misty from the heat enveloping her. "I couldn't imagine going through all of this with someone else, Rukia."

A soft gasp escaped her as he leaned forward, pecking her hot cheek briefly, a drop of sweat rolling down her neck. When he pulled back a frown was on his face again, his eyes scrutinizing her. "Are you alright?"

_The dark-haired Shinigami blushed slightly as she watched her best friend, drenched in sweat, pull his shirt over his head, his muscles glittering in the sun streaming through the window. "What the hell!"_

_The orange-head stared at her, blankly. "What?"_

_"How can you just take off your shirt in the presence of a lady? This isn't decent!"_

_Ichigo snorted. "First of all, this isn't the first time you've seen me without a shirt and I'm sure as hell not gonna die of a heatstroke because you think I'm not "decent", and second of all, as soon as you show me the lady I'm offending I'll gladly rethink my decision."_

_He should have seen the kick to the face coming._

It was just like back then, just this time he didn't even have to take off his top for her to stare at him. She felt his presence next to her, his warm hand on her cheek as he turned her face toward him and locked her misted eyes with his concerned ones. "Rukia?"

And before he knew what was happening had his wife grabbed his face in her petite hands, yanking him down towards her and into a passionate, wild kiss that had him reeling. He felt her climb into his lap, her burning body already drenched in sweat as she pressed herself to him, her tiny tongue invading his mouth.

_What the hell is going on_, was all he could think, while he found himself unable to stop her wandering hands quickly finding his obi and loosening it, pushing the fabric of his gi apart and off his chest, her hands aflame on his muscled torso. Rukia pulled away from his bruised lips, their breathing deep and a trail of saliva connecting their mouths. The young Shinigami stared at his petite wife, her eyes glazed over with lust. He shuddered as she leaned over to his neck, her tongue darting out and gliding along his defined jaw. "Well?" Her throaty voice sent shivers down his spine and he had to close his eyes against the feeling of her hands on the hem of his pants. "Am I supposed to do everything on my own here?"

Ichigo knew she wasn't in her right mind, and even though her attentions felt heavenly to him he knew she'd never forgive him if he took advantage of her now. Grabbing her shoulders and doing his best to ignore her hands dangerously close to his hardening cock he pushed her off of him, her purple eyes blazing in fury.

The orange-head gulped, realizing too late that just lying back and taking it from her would have been the saver option.

**-o-**

If Kurosaki Ichigo had thought that the tiny Shinigami was insanely strong for her size when she was slightly irked he was positive that lust turned her into the incredible Hulk. How else was he supposed to rationalize the fact that she had practically picked him up and thrown him onto their bed despite his violent struggles. "Dammit, Rukia, snap outta i-OUCH!" His arms snapped around to his back and he fell back onto the mattress, completely at his wife's mercy.

"Yes, that's much better, don't you think?" Her hands roamed over his bare chest, her purple eyes dark with uninhibited lust. Part of her kimono hung lose on her body from his struggling and he felt his gaze drawn towards the pale skin of her right shoulder, the sweat glistening in the dim light. A low pulse shot through his bound body and a gasp flew from his lips, Rukia immediately took advantage of this and dove down, kissing him deeply and hungrily.

Fire burned where their skin met, his cock hardening painfully, pressing against his hakama and into Rukia's core, a low purr emitting from her throat. She broke their kiss, a sultry smile on her face as she sat up, hands flying to his pants and pulling them down. "This is _much_ better." The teenager blushed as he watched her reaction, her hungry eyes fastening onto his dripping manhood. The horny woman looked up at him, her tiny tongue darting out to wet her slightly parted lips. His body was burning now, his head swimming with lust.

He wanted her, badly.

Before he knew it her lips had closed around the head of his shaft, her tongue gliding over the tip teasingly and all he could do was throw his head back, his back arching against the pleasure. She took him deeper and deeper down her throat, sucking hard and bringing him close to his peak already.

He wouldn't have that.

How he managed to focus long enough to break free of her kidô he didn't know, all he knew was that he wanted his wife underneath him, screaming his name to high heavens. Rukia moaned in disapproval when he grabbed the hair at the back of her head, pulling her away from his meaty length and towards him, smashing their lips together with a low growl and ripping her kimono off, his hands roaming her petite, sweaty body with urgency. His large hands gripped her thighs tightly, tight enough to leave bruises, and pushed her on her back, his teeth biting down on her pristine shoulder.

Without a conscious thought did he ram his hard erection into her slick heat, their unison moans loud in their bedroom. "You're right", he moaned, his right hand groping her breast roughly. "This is _much_ better." The young prince couldn't believe they hadn't done this sooner, the feeling of his pulsing cock thrusting in and out of her dripping pussy enough to steal his breath. Waves of heat burned through them as the rhythm of their hips increased to a maddening speed. Rukia's voice was hoarse as she whispered for him to go _faster_ and _harder_ still, her arms around his neck almost too tight.

_Wait_, he thought sluggishly, his mind hazed with lust. _We must've been... drugged._ His foggy eyes stared at his panting wife, barely hearing her whispered "I'm close." as he pushed himself up on his elbows. Just when Rukia was about to come did he pull away, his breathing fast and shallow as he tried to regain his senses, but the petite woman would have nothing of it. Her tiny hand grasped his erection tightly, pumping him quickly. A deep moan tore from his throat as he plunged three long fingers into her, thrusting them until she clenched them tightly, coming all over his hand as he released his load on her arm and chest, glad he had been smart enough to not come inside of her and, kami beware, knock her up.

The spent woman clung to him, her eyes clearing up as he hugged her, and, too exhausted to sit up any longer, pushing her onto the bed, falling into the pillows alongside her. The moment either hit the soft bedding they were knocked out cold, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**-o-**

When Ichigo awoke that morning his first thought was to deliver a slow, painful death to the majority of his family.

His second thought was that sex with Rukia was the single best thing that ever happened to him in his life.

His third was that Rukia had him whipped.

His fourth was to hightail from their bed before she woke up and turned into Jaws.

_Please let her have amnesia when she wakes up_, he thought as he looked at her, clinging tightly onto his arm as if he was a particularly comfortable pillow. A new blush crept onto his cheeks as he saw his dried cum covering her entire front, remembering what he'd done to prevent a pregnancy the night before, fighting the urge to slap himself into a coma. _So much for amnesia._

Slowly, carefully, he scooted back and away from her naked body, his eyes fastening onto her pale, petite form almost immediately. Pausing, unable to look away, he waited just a second too long. Rukia, getting cold, pulled herself closer towards his muscular arm, her body flush against him. Blushing, he tried to get away again, but her grip was tight, secure, and he was afraid to wake her up and be the first victim in a remake of The Silence of the Lambs.

_Dammit_, he thought, reeling when a sudden heat washed over him again, gritting his teeth. _Just peachy._

Figures that the drugs take longer to get out of his system, too.

A soft moan echoed from his tiny wife and when he turned his gaze towards her he was mortified to find his right hand on her ass, kneading the plump flesh.

His first thought of the day sounded wonderfully right then.

Looking at her sleeping form he could feel arousal growing in his gut again, the drugs sending wave after wave of hot desire through him. His deep, hot breath fanned over the mark he left on her shoulder the previous night, and he dimly wondered if she'd even wake up if he did her right then.

_Who am I kidding,_ he thought foggily. _She'd Jigsaw me. _Despite thinking that he found himself climbing on top of her, his hands tightly gripping her wrists next to her head as he buried his hard cock inside of her again, thrusting roughly into her at once. Deep, guttural moans tore from his throat as he kept thrusting into his sleeping wife, her pussy slick and tight around him.

"Fuck," he groaned, increasing his speed. If he could stay with her like this forever he'd die happy. She fit him so perfectly it sent him reeling, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he lost control of his pace. His focus only returned when higher, feminine moans mixed in with his own, amber locking with violet as her hips started to respond to his thrusts.

Ichigo smashed his lips onto hers, their tongues intertwining and chests rubbing against each other. "You're gonna kill me when we're done, aren't you?" His voice was dark and heavy, his hips thrusting harder and deeper to make her moan out his name.

"I'll let you live just this once," the last part was only a breathless whisper, her sharp nails running down his back and leaving bloody marks. "Just cos it feels... so... good." Her voice trailed off as she threw her head back and moaned, her inner walls tightening around his thick cock, her body convulsing as she came.

It took every ounce of self-control he retained through the drugs to pull himself out of her and come on top of her again, even though every fiber of his being screamed at him to fill her up.

They lay in bed, their breathing labored, and bright blushes marring their faces as they avoided eye-contact. Finally regaining his breath - and his backbone - Ichigo turned his head toward his wife, doing his best to keep his gaze away from her exposed breasts. "Rukia."

Said woman's face immediately snapped around to lock eyes with him once more and he gulped, her ruffled hair and flushed face all too enticing.

"I promise I''ll figure something out."

She really hoped he would.

**-o-**

_It was a pain to write the ending. Nothing I typed really sat right with me... oh well._

**_PSA: My deepest apologies for the major delay (and such an... important chapter, too), but I moved and the ISP was unable to set me up with an internet connection in 21st century Germany, for some reason, so I haven't had internet since August. I'm really sorry!_**


	7. Realization at Dusk, Opus I

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**A good marriage would be between a blind wife and a deaf husband.  
**Michel de Montaigne_

**-o-**

**Seventh Anniversary: **_Realization at Dusk, Opus I_

**-o-**

"Here." The orange-head didn't meet his wife's eyes as he handed her the wet clothe he had brought her from the bathroom. He was already dressed in some sweatpants and an old shirt while Rukia was still covering herself with their blanket. The black-haired woman blushed as she took it gratefully. Clearing his throat in unease he turned away from her and went to the living room, starting to clean up the mess from the day before, unable to look at Rukia without an awkward mix of embarrassment and arousal arising in his chest.

_Dammit_, he thought as he put the various plates on top of each other. _I'm turning into a pervert._

When he opened the door to bring them back to the kitchen he was met with a young maid, her fist raised about to knock. A blush crept on her cheeks as she coughed in her fist instead, quickly taking the plates from her prince. "I... I was about to wake you and Rukia-sama." She pointed at a place behind him. "Your gifts arrived."

Just when he turned around to see the mountain of gifts he'd previously missed did he and the maid watch a black and purple blur shoot out of the bedroom and into the packages like Scrooge McDuck into a pile of money.

With a bright blush on his face Ichigo pushed the maid out of the threshold and slammed the door closed, scrambling to catch Rukia as she was diving around the gifts.

"Oh! Look! Nii-sama got us a tea set!" She quickly disappeared into the wrapped presents when she saw Ichigo closing in on her. _Sheldon Cooper is easier to tame!_ Ichigo growled lowly as he tried to spot her among the wrapping paper. "Yuzu got us a Chappy lamp! How sweet!" He whipped around when he heard her voice from behind him, but his hands only got air. _I will _so_ get her tested for insanity!_

This went on for a good fifteen minutes, until the violet-eyed gummy ball arrived at her father-in-law's gift. "Kurosaki-san got us... oh my god." Unable to avoid her raging husband this time she let him grab her up in his arms, too shocked to move. In her hands was the skimpiest piece of lingerie she had ever seen, and going by Ichigo's choked coughing behind her he didn't take that gift any better.

Slowly turning her face towards him she searched his eyes for approval. "Can we burn this thing?"

"No, we _will_ burn this thing."

Setting Rukia back down on the floor he quickly snatched the piece of lace out of her hands, avoiding to look at her. "Go," he coughed as his voice cracked. "Go take a shower, I'll clean up."

He didn't have to tell her twice.

Just when the water started to run in the shower did it knock at the door again. Sighing in exhaustion the orange-head slid the door open only to be met with the maid from before again. "What?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you again, Ichigo-sama, but..."

"Spit it out, I'm not really in the best mood right now."

The poor maid seemed even more scared now. "The clan expects you and Rukia-sama for breakfast in fifteen minutes." For the second time that day did the maid get the door slammed shut in front of her as the young prince panicked and ran to the bathroom door. Slamming his fist on the thin wood he yelled. "Oi! Hurry up, we have to be at breakfast ASAP!"

"Shut up!" And as if to mock him did his petite she-devil of a wife turn the water on more, completely drowning out his curses. Glaring at the offending door he quickly checked if he could go without a shower just this once, scrunching up his nose.

He reeked of sex.

Looking between the clock at the wall and the bathroom door he grit his teeth before quickly sliding the door open and rushing into the steam-filled room. Throwing his clothes to the floor he jumped into the shower with his eyes trained to a point of the tiled wall. "What the fuck!" Still avoiding to look at her he grabbed for the soap and started to shower, his blush darkening.

"It's not like I haven't seen you... you know. We need to hurry."

Still gaping, and trying to avoid looking anywhere below his chin, she tried to focus on showering again, but found it harder and harder to do. Especially when Ichigo slipped on the wet floor of the shower and fell on her, smothering her against the tiled wall.

Now, any sensible person would just get off of her and try to never think of this incident again, ever.

But Ichigo wasn't sensible.

He was a horny idiot.

And when his hands grabbed her hips in a firm hold, it was blatantly obvious he didn't care about breakfast anymore. His knees pushed her legs apart as he pressed closer to her, her front pressed into the wall, and she gasped when she felt his pulsing cock against her lower regions for the second time that morning. His wet tongue ran along her neck as his heavy breath fanned over her slick skin and she shuddered at the burning shooting through her body once more.

Rukia knew she was supposed to snap him out of it somehow, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She grabbed his hair instead, dragging him down and kissing his lips hungrily, moaning when she felt him enter her.

They'd just blame the drugs again.

**-o-**

"They're late."

Kurosaki Isshin rolled his eyes at the annoyed woman sitting next to him, doing his best to suppress a mad grin.

He had a feeling just _why_ the two were late.

The door to the large dining room was pushed open and two quite flustered and ruffled Shinigami barged in, panting from running there so fast. Kimiko glared while Isshin was turning purple from suppressing his laughter at their untidy clothing, wet hair and the hickeys covering their necks like a bad case of measles.

They stared at their hands in their laps, blushing madly, as they waited for the servants to put their plates in front of them.

Their gazes snapped up when a livid Kimiko slammed her tight fist on the tabletop, both feeling like two little children caught stealing sweets. "If you can't even get to a breakfast meeting on time, how do you think are you going to fulfill any of your other duties? You have to take this more seriously! This isn't a fucking game!"

Glaring at her Ichigo tightened his hands into fists underneath the table. "Well, maybe if you had better things to do than drug the two of us we'd have been on time!"

"If you had consummated your marriage like you're supposed to we wouldn't have had to drug you!"

"What the hell do you expect! You married us off!"

"That just shows that you are too immature to understand the importance of you conceiving a male heir."

Their heated glares locked on each other, and Ichigo was the first to look away. Slamming his flat hands onto the table he pushed himself up, storming out of the room, his wife quickly following.

Back with the elders Isshin couldn't help but chuckle.

**-o-**

Rukia grabbed her husband's right arm tightly, whirling him around as he stormed into their private living room. "You can't just run off in the middle of a meeting!"

His amber eyes blazing he jerked his arm out of her grasp. "I just did, didn't I?"

"You just make them angrier! That's the dumbest thing you've done in ages!"

"Well, if you hadn't been such a stubborn bitch earlier I wouldn't have jumped you in the shower and we would have been on time!" He really should have seen the slap coming, his head whipping aside with the force of the impact. "You are such an asshole."

Ichigo felt her storming off with Shunpo, his left hand coming up to his burning cheek, and he felt his anger disappearing into thin air almost instantly.

"I really am an ass," he mumbled to himself as he sat down at the dining table, hoping for her to calm down and come back.

**-o-**

_That motherfucking asshole_, thought the petite she-devil as she stomped through the outskirts of the Seireitei. _First fucking my brains out and then blaming _me_! Next time he comes near me I'll rip that fucking thing off!_

What was that about hell and female fury?

Just when the black-haired woman was about to punch a nearby, innocent tree did someone grab her wrists, pushing her on the ground and caging her in.

**-o-**

"Where the hell did that midget run off to?"

Ichigo had, after two hours of waiting and feeling guilty, decided to follow his raging wife. But right behind the last few barracks of the thirteenth division did he lose her track, her Reiatsu suddenly getting too low for him to sense. _Che_, he silently snorted. _I bet she sensed me and wants me to get lost._

But he wouldn't have that. He'd find her and apologize if it was the death of him, which, given her mood, was very likely.

With a sigh he sat down on the grass underneath one of the scattered trees, resting for a little while.

He'd been so annoyed with Kimiko he just snapped at Rukia, who, technically, really wasn't any more responsible for anything than he was. And, usually, they would have just started fighting until Rukia started kicking him and that would have been the end of it. Why she had slapped him and run off he really didn't get.

Talking about dense.

The young orange-head folded his arms on his knees, putting his head on them, concentrating on the faint hint of his wife's spiritual energy, but unable to pinpoint it he growled, slamming his forehead on his forearms over and over.

Even in her absence she was annoying.

"Stupid midget," his voice was barely a whisper as he took in a deep breath. "Just let me find you and apologize."

He felt his right wrist start to get hot, frowning as he looked up to see his wedding band glow a deep red. "What the he-" The prince stopped mid-curse as a thin, fragile thread flashed before his eyes, wave after wave of his wife's scent hitting him like a wall made of roses and cherries. "Che, at least this thing is useful for something."

**-o-**

"Let me go!"

The greasy man atop of her grinned, showing many missing teeth. "No can do, little princess. I was paid a hell of a lot to kill you and that husband of yours."

Instead of being frightened the woman with the purple eyes just looked him up and down, snorting unladylike. "I'd like to see you try. You can go line up with the gay fairy, the Quincy musician and rows and rows of other fools who tried." She smirked, looking very much like the infamous orange-head. "Just a little hint, you can find them in the reincarnation cycle."

The man above her laughed throatily. "I'm deadlier than I look, my precious."

"In that case, I'd greatly appreciate you getting your hands off of my woman and go at someone your height."

Not making a move to get off the tiny woman the man just smirked at Ichigo, an eyebrow raised. "What are you gonna do without a sword?"

The Shinigami just cracked his neck as he regarded the greasy guy _still_ on top of _his_ wife. "As if I need a sword for you." Tightening his right hand to a fist he concentrated on condensing his Reiatsu there, waiting for an opening.

That was a little something his Hollow was useful for.

Slightly raising off his hostage he provided just the opening the young prince had needed to punch his guts out with a Bala.

The knocked-out wannabe-assassin lay on the ground next to Rukia, and the angry orange-head was intent on murdering him for daring to touch and threaten _his_ wife.

_**Possessive much?**_

_Shut up._

_**You use my powers, I get to annoy you.**_

_Asshole._

The distorted chuckle from his Hollow echoed in his head as he turned around to his groaning wife who tried to sit up despite the long gash on her left leg. Killing the bastard could wait. Rukia was priority now.

His warmth enveloped her almost instantly as he wrapped one arm around her shoulder, pressing her into his chest as he looked at her wounded leg. "When did that happen?"

Rukia shrugged as she settled into his welcome embrace, her eyes closing as she breathed in his spicy scent. "I guess when he pushed me down." Feeling his deep growl vibrating through his chest she looked up at him, reaching up to touch his cheek and make him look at her. "He's not worth it."

Staring at her he sighed, carefully reaching below her knees and picking her up. "The next guy who touches you I'm gonna kill, though."

Chuckling quietly the wounded woman nuzzled deeper into him, relaxing.

"Sorry about earlier."

"It's okay." He looked down only to see her breathing evenly, fast asleep. Not able to resist he pressed a light kiss on top of her head, incredibly relieved that she was save.

_If I'd lost her_, he couldn't help but think as he made his way back to their home. _I think I would've lost my shit and skinned that bastard alive, only to go on a rampage afterward. _Thinking about that asshole again he growled again, his grip on his wife tightening again. That little piece of shit touched his wife, hurt her and threatened her life.

_If I see him again he's dead meat._

Sighing, suddenly really tired, he looked at her peaceful, sleeping expression and he felt guilty again. _He would've never hurt her if I hadn't been so stupid. _Taking a deep breath he hugged her closer to his body. _I can't believe I called her 'my woman'._

And just then, without any warning, did it dawn on him just why he was getting more and more possessive and, to his chagrin, more and more attracted to her.

_Dammit_, he thought. _I'm falling for that midget._

Needless to say, he never argued over the bed with her again.

**-o-**

_So, our favorite midget ends up being denser than the strawberry, who would have thought~_


	8. Of Infertility, Concubines and Beauty

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**More marriages might survive if the partners realized that sometimes the better comes after the worse.  
**Doug Larson_

**-o-**

**Eight Anniversary: **_Of Infertility, Concubines and Beauty_

**-o-**

Since that incident two weeks had passed, two weeks in which Ichigo's father and the rest of his deranged family had drugged their dinner every night, two weeks in which they ended up screwing each other all night long, two weeks of awkward mornings and barely prevented pregnancies.

Two weeks, and Ichigo was falling for his wife more and more every day.

The orange-head sighed as he fumbled with his obi, looking at himself in the mirror. No matter how many times he dressed in traditional clothing, it still felt weird. Small hands slapped his calloused ones away and his gaze flickered down to his wife. She rolled her violet eyes when she noticed his stare. "You'll never get to that meeting with your dad at this rate."

Ichigo snorted as he averted his face, a light blush on his cheeks. "Taking me out for drinks can hardly be called a meeting, don't you think?"

A small smile sneaked on Rukia's features as she finished tying his obi properly, her hands lingering slightly above it. She felt inclined to lean up and kiss him, but quickly suppressed the urge. She was being silly.

Turning around the violet-eyed woman moved towards the bathroom they shared, covering her burning cheeks with her dark hair that now reached just past her shoulders and started to curl at the ends. "You," she coughed when her voice cracked. "You should hurry up." Her heartbeat faltered when his strong hands rested on her shoulders from behind, and his lips pecked her cheek briefly. "See you later."

Before she could react he was already out the front door of their chambers, her face blazing red.

"Idiot," she whispered.

**-o-**

The young prince frowned as he concentrated on his father's reiatsu, weaving his way through the crowded streets of the Seireitei. The elders had objected to him going out without protection but he went alone anyways, punching the guards that tried to follow him. As if he needed guards, of all people.

A black blur crashed into him from one of the open entryways of the bars, dragging him down to the ground. "What the hell!" The black mass on top of him looked up, and Ichigo was shocked to see a very drunk Renji, his flushed face scrunched up in anger. "YOU!"

"Huh?" Ichigo was stunned when the red-head grabbed the front of his clothes and dragged him up to his feet - or at least tried to. In the end he stumbled so much that Ichigo had to be the one to steady him, wondering what had the older Shinigami so upset. "You okay?"

Renji focused his bleary eyes on the young prince, doing his best to glare. "No, I'm _not_ okay, you asshole."

With a frown Ichigo took a step back, doing his best to stay calm. "What the fuck is your problem?"

Like I said, he did his best.

"You!"

"I what!"

"You took Rukia away from me!"

There was a thick silence between the two men, one swaying back and forth as he tried to keep his balance through his drunken haze, the other shocked by his friend's sudden outburst. _Just what is it with everyone going drama when drunk?_

Taking a deep breath Ichigo put his hands on the red-head's shoulders, ignoring his attempts to shake his grip off. "Just how exactly did I take her away from you? In case you forgot, you two weren't an item, and we were _married off_. Besides..."

"Besides... what..?" Ichigo flinched at his slurring, but decided to continue anyways.

"Besides... I think... I think I'm falling in love with her." There, he finally said it. Although not to the person it concerned.

But he said it!

And then Renji did something stupid.

He scoffed.

Gritting his teeth Ichigo balled one of his hands into fists, unconsciously gathering his reiatsu there, pummeling Renji down to the ground with one, hard punch. "Listen, you idiot. If all you're gonna do is whine about how hurt your little feelings are you can stay the hell away from me and _my_ wife, okay? You can come back when you have sobered up and grown into an adult." With that he stormed past the drunk red-head and on to the bar his dad was most likely getting plastered in.

**-o-**

Much to the young prince's surprise did he find a completely sober Kurosaki Isshin sitting at the bar and waving him over enthusiastically. As soon as the orange-head sat down his father smirked at him. "So, what do you want?"

He stared at him for a few, long seconds, before turning to the bartender. "A scotch."

Isshin raised a brow at that. "Sure you want that?"

A glare from his son shut him up as he practically ripped the glass from the bartender's hand and downed the entire thing in one gulp. He coughed slightly, then ordered a refill as color rose to his cheeks. "Are you sure you're okay, son?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Very convincing."

"Shut the fuck up or I'll smash this glass on your head." With that he took another big gulp from his refilled glass, calming down just a little as his gaze fell on his wedding band. "Say... dad... why her?"

Isshin took a swig from his beer as he frowned at his son. "What do you mean?"

Ichigo growled impatiently. "Why did you choose Rukia as my wife? I don't get it."

"Why? Is Rukia being a bad wife?" His mischievous tone had the orange-head frown and down the rest of his drink, waving for another refill.

"Of course not, she's my best friend and really great, just..." He locked his slightly unfocused amber eyes with the darker ones of his father. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Great, he was playing dumb.

"How did you know that I'd fall for her?"

To Ichigo's surprise did Isshin get serious, turning back to take a drink from his beer. "I noticed how you were looking at her, how you were talking about her... oh, and of course the little speech you gave me during the Winter War." He looked at his son again. "It reminded me of Masaki and me."

Ichigo smiled slightly, staring down at his drink before downing his third glass of the evening.

"Thank you."

**-o-**

Rukia woke up when a strong arm wrapped itself around her waist and the penetrating smell of alcohol wafted at her from her husband cuddling up to her under the blankets, his hand running from her waist to the juncture of her hip, close to groping her ass. "What are you trying to do?"

Instead of getting an answer she could feel his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of her neck, his sharp teeth grazing over her pulse point as he pressed his body closer to hers. "Ichigo... oi..." She gasped when his unoccupied hand grasped her breast through her thin nightgown, kneading the plumb flesh in his palm, biting down on her neck and sucking hard. Through the thick smell of alcohol his natural scent reached her, heavy and spicy as she felt her nipples harden. His other hand dragged up the short nightdress and trailed along the silk of her panties, her legs jerking as his fingers rubbed the wet spot at the center.

"Ichigo, damm-" Her protest was muffled by his lips, his body almost wrapped completely around her tinier one as he continued to rub her through her panties and pinch her nipples. "Shut up and enjoy yourself," his voice was a deep growl that made her shiver. With a deep blush she watched him push the strap of her gown down her shoulder, his tongue gliding over the soft skin and hickeys he'd left the previous nights. His hips ground into her plumb ass, his hard erection pushing closer to her core through their layers of clothing.

Figures alcohol made him horny.

"S-stop it-AH!" His teeth bit into a particularly sensitive part of her neck, right above her collarbone, his hand at her panties growing impatient and getting a hold of the thin fabric, ripping it off quickly. Pulling back slightly he traced his tongue along the shell of her ear, his voice husky as he moved up both of his hands to fondle her breasts again, a strangled moan escaping her throat.

"Get on your hands and knees and spread those beautiful legs of yours." She grit her teeth as his fingers tweaked her nipples roughly, his hips thrusting into her backside rhythmically now. "Come on, be a good wife and let your husband fuck your brains out." Rukia couldn't believe the way he was talking to her now and swore on her Zanpakutô that she'd beat her father-in-law into a bloody pulp.

Ichigo would _never_ touch a drop of alcohol again after this night, not if she could help it.

An impatient growl escaped her husband and his hands grabbed her hips tightly and before she could do anything but let out a startled yelp he had her on her hands and knees, just like he'd demanded. "What the hell-" She was cut off again as his thick, pulsing cock sunk into her tight core and after that she really didn't care anymore.

His thrusts were hard and rough, her entire body jerking every time their skin slapped against each other. She couldn't help the loud moans coming from her throat, especially when he started to fondle her breasts again, his heavy breath sending goosebumps down her spine as the smell of alcohol, sex and him had her head swim.

After a particularly hard thrust her arms and legs gave away under her, and Ichigo growled in approval as he started to move faster.

He just wanted to claim her this once.

His wife shuddered, her muscles coiling as she breathed out a long moan, coming all over his thrusting cock. Her moan turned into a yelp when he bit down hard on her neck again, leaving one of his largest hickeys so far.

Through her muddled senses did his voice reach her, low and husky, as she felt him twitch inside of her. "Just this once."

_Wha...?_

Then Rukia felt it, his hands holding her hips in a death grip and with one final thrust he released himself into her for the first time, the feeling of his seed burning inside of her leaving her reeling.

_Fuck._

His strong arms around her were already dragging her into the sweet realm that was sleep, but she couldn't just have that. She still needed to plot his father's murder. _If Ichigo just knocked me up, Isshin will be so dead the reincarnation cycle will reject him._

"Hm..." Her husband's voice behind her startled her out of her murderous fantasies, his voice low and content as he hugged her tighter to him. "You smell so nice..." A deep red blush burned on her cheeks as she started to stutter, a low chuckle coming from his throat as he nuzzled the back of her head. "It's so calming..." His voice trailed off and soon after she could hear his low, even breathing, Ichigo now fast asleep.

Burying her burning face in the soft pillow she allowed a small smile to come to her lips.

_Baka._

**-o-**

Amber eyes, bleary both from sleep and leftover alcohol, blinked open, only to be met with the intense stare of his wife, still in her peach-colored silky nightdress. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he sat up with a groan, pausing when he noticed that he was still wearing the same clothes as the night before.

Then he remembered, and a crimson blush rose to his cheeks. His black-haired wife raised an eyebrow at him, crossing her arms across her chest. "I guess your brain just rebooted, huh?"

Ichigo stared sheepishly at her, running his right hand through his orange hair. "Are you going to kill me?"

To his great surprise did Rukia blush as well, her arms dropping into her lap like dead weights, her rosy face turning to the wall. "Just... you know... that was the first time that you..." Her hands gripped at the soft material of her dress, right across her abdomen, and all color drained from his face. Her purple eyes met his again. "Why did you change your mind?" Her eyes turned cold when a thought hit her. "If it was because you were too drunk to care I swear-"

"No, that's not it," his calm voice startled her, his hand twitching as if it wanted to go back to his mop of hair. "Just... you know... if we do have a kid... I don't want it to be because my crazy family drugged our brains out, I want us to be actually _aware_ of why we are doing what... if that makes any sense." He sighed, closing his eyes in resignation. "Fuck it, I'm not making any sense."

His eyes flew open when a pair of soft lips brushed against his own, but soon closed again, his head tilting to the side as he deepened their kiss. His hands gripped her silky nightgown, dragging her closer to his body, a low moan escaping him as her hands buried themselves in his orange hair and her nails raked over his scalp.

Before either of them knew it their clothes lay discarded on the wooden floor of their bedroom, their whispered moans echoing through the air.

**-o-**

His hot breath was fanning over her face as he grabbed her sweaty hair tighter, planting short, hard kisses on her lips every now and again as they lay facing each other in the bed, the rumpled sheets at their feet. Rukia could already feel his want for her both physically and in his pulsing reiatsu and dimly wondered just how high his sex drive could possibly be.

They'd done it twice that early morning and he was already up for a third round, something that both amazed and horrified her. _I guess it wasn't really healthy for him to neglect his hormones for almost two decades_, she thought as his hands grew more insistent and his lips became rough enough to bruise hers.

A sudden knock at the door startled them, their gazes locked on each other as they listened for any further noise. When none came Ichigo grinned at her, his hands starting their thorough tour of her body again.

And then the maid called.

"Ichigo-sama! The elders request your presence in the main garden!"

Judging by his expression, Rukia guessed that all that prevented the maid from an untimely second death was the fact that he was naked. When he made no move to get up and dress she nudged him, glaring at him as she pushed him away and covered herself with the blanket. "Shoo." His lips turned into a pout as he started groping for her again, his dark eyes roaming over her barely-covered body hungrily. "Come on, all they are gonna do is bitch..."

"Then go and get bitched at, or I swear I am gonna knee you somewhere special."

"I'm sure they'll be more than happy to cancel the meeting if we are gonna screw some mo-"

"Go." His pout intensified, but her steely gaze soon had him sigh in resignation. "Fine..." Slowly turning his back to her he slid off the bed, grabbing for some clothes in the half-open closet and giving her a great view of his backside that had her stomach churn and flutter at the same time.

_Dammit._

Throwing her a last, withering glare over his shoulder he waltzed toward the door, mumbling something that sounded dangerously like "Could have at least finished the job" before slamming the door shut behind him.

The bedroom was silent as she sat there, surrounded my the sheets reeking of their activities, and blushed as she rubbed her legs together, trying to ease the burning and aching he'd left her with.

_I'm an idiot._

Letting her gaze drift around the untidy room she wondered how the past day would change their relationship. Yes, they had been sleeping with each other for roughly two weeks, but that hadn't been on their own volition. They had been drugged, and now? Now they had had sex three times just because... because what? Rukia frowned, her hands letting go of the sheet covering her chest unconsciously.

Yes, he'd said that he wanted to be aware of what they were doing, but so what? That didn't explain why he suddenly seemed unable to keep his hands off of her - or why she'd initiated their second coupling. The black-haired shinigami leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees and her face buried in her hands.

_What are we getting into?_

Her violet eyes flashed to the door, and, biting her lip, she jumped off the bed and grabbed for a yukata, speedwalking out of their chambers and turning toward the huge main garden.

**-o-**

Kurosaki Isshin was, despite popular belief, a very reasonable man. And he knew that despite his son's temperament he was quite reasonable himself... with most people, at least. But when it came to the vicious dragon of their clan going by the name of Kimiko, his son lost every ounce of reason he possessed.

And Isshin understood that perfectly well.

"It's only been two weeks."

Golden eyes snapped to him and he swore he could see waves of fire shooting out of them. "Two weeks without pregnancy nonetheless."

He rolled his eyes skyward. "As a doctor, let me tell you something: Getting pregnant is a lot more complex than just unloading it, you know? And it takes more than two fucking weeks to notice."

"We are having her monitored regularly and nothing turned up."

Isshin had the urge to slap himself at her stubborn ignorance. "And you think making him sleep _with a concubine_ after he only just got used to sleeping with his fucking wife would solve the non-existent problem?"

Kimiko didn't give him the courtesy of a reply as Ichigo trudged up to them with an obvious foul mood and his father wondered dimly if they'd interrupted him in the act in question. Not acknowledging any of the assembled elders he just stared at his father with a mix between dread and utter irritation on his face. "What the hell is it this time? I was kinda busy, you know."

_Yes, definitely cockblocked him._

The Kurosaki clan's very own dragon glared at the heir to Soul Society's throne heatedly. "As it stands your wife is not yet pregnant."

Ichigo's honey-colored eyes turned as cold and golden as his grandaunt's as his head snapped toward her, and Isshin chuckled inwardly at how well his son imitated Rukia's Kuchiki mask. "It's only been two weeks, we're shinigami, not rabbits."

"Told you so," the phrase was barely covered by a fake cough, and it only served to irritate Kimiko even further. "Nevertheless, we have decided to choose a concubine for you."

And thus hell descended on them.

**-o-**

Rukia detested eavesdropping. To her, nothing was more dishonorable than spying on someone else's conversation. And yet, she found herself doing just that.

She reasoned that it technically wasn't wrong because they were talking about her.

And about _her_ Ichigo getting a motherfucking whore.

No way in motherfucking, frozen-over hell.

"I'm not getting a goddamn whore!"

_Good strawberry. Maybe you'll get some later._

"It's already hard enough putting up with one irrational woman!"

_You'll stay abstinent so long you can go apply as a catholic priest, you asshole._

His voice was doubling over when he continued. "Besides, shouldn't it be my bloody decision whether I want a concubine or not? I'm perfectly fine dealing with one arranged wife, thank you very much!"

_Okay, maybe two years._

"Can't you just leave Rukia and me the fuck alone? I swear if she was here right now half of you would be icicles! Just. Back. Off."

There was a short silence, then Rukia heard Kimiko, who seemed to be barely able to control herself. "You seem to forget that you are to produce a male heir as quickly as possible, and as your useless wife is clearly infertile we have no other choice but to-"

Rukia could feel Ichigo's angry reiatsu crashing down around her but couldn't find it in herself to wonder why she didn't fall to the ground in a gasping, writhing heap. Instead she threw open the door to the garden, every step she took toward the elders freezing the ground beneath her feet and her eyes blazing white from her own livid reiatsu.

Ichigo almost pissed his pants.

_Note to self: get lots of roses and shower her in them as you proclaim eternal servitude to her to escape death by frostbite._

"I'm not infertile, you fucking morons!" A violent shudder ran down Ichigo's spine as she came to a halt next to him, tiny snowflakes emanating from her petite body as the tips of her hair froze over. He gulped, only one thought repeatedly running through his head.

_Scary as fuck._

Kimiko returned his wife's gaze with equal coldness, her lips a thin line. "Is that so? Then why, pray tell, aren't you pregnant yet?"

"BECAUSE I DON'T LET THAT SISSY COME INSIDE ME, YOU MOTHERFUCKING IDIOT!"

A blazing blush rose to Ichigo's cheeks as he longed for a hollow to appear and swallow him whole. His attention only diverted from his embarrassment and self-pity when his tiny but terrifying wife's reiatsu blew through him, stronger than he'd ever felt it to be, and he wondered dimly whether she'd manage to go bankai on his grandaunt without her zanpakutô at her side. The woman, however, seemed remarkably unaffected.

"If you get your next period, we'll force him to take a concubine, whether you agree with it or not." Her own reiatsu flared slightly. "And mind you tone when you speak to your elders."

Rukia let out a feral growl and it took all of Ichigo's courage to grab her by her upper arms, realizing with a tiny part of his mind that his fingers, thankfully, didn't freeze solid upon touching her, and slowly but firmly dragged her away from the garden, turning her toward him in the process. "It's not worth it," he said lowly in her ear, ignoring her angry struggles to go back and skin the annoying woman with her own bare hands. He sighed. _And I thought I was the unreasonable one in this relationship._

**-o-**

By the time he'd finally managed to drag her to their chambers she was still fuming, but her struggles had died down much to Ichigo's relief. Jerking away from his slackened grip she whirled around to him, her eyes still glowing with her reiatsu. "Why did you stop me, you jerk!"

Ichigo grabbed her shoulders, shaking her lightly as he tried to get her back to her senses. "You were only making it worse! You were the one who told me to not oppose them all the time and then you go and almost nuke them with your reiatsu! What the hell has gotten into you!"

"The fact that even after your father and sisters were kind and caring to me I'm still regarded as useless and inferior! I gained motherfucking bankai and am still a little piece of shit! I'm just fed up, okay!"

The orange-head sagged as he let his hands drop from her shoulders. "Just because that dragon thinks that way doesn't mean everyone does."

"I don't fucking care!"

With that she turned around, signaling the conversation to be over, and slid the door open, only to be met with a busty blonde sitting at the low dining table in their living room, practically starting to glow the moment she saw Ichigo.

Rukia's back grew stiff as she gripped the door a little tighter. "You have five seconds to explain who the fuck you are and what the hell you are doing here."

The blonde tilted her head in a puppy-like manner, irking Rukia with the overly cuteness of the _dumb bitch_ sitting in _her _living room like she owned it. "But... I'm Ichigo-sama's new concubine! I was told to wait here!"

And before Ichigo had the presence of mind to restrain his wife again did she descend on the unsuspecting woman like a feral wildcat.

**-o-**

Ichigo had never quite understood what the majority of men found so exciting about catfights.

That is, until he watched his wife sit on top of the woman who had been intended to become his concubine, the blonde hair held tightly in her tiny fists as she attempted to rip the thick strands out.

He didn't know what was so hot about it, all he knew was that he thought she'd never looked sexier to him, ever. At least she did until she picked up the crying woman and threw her straight through the open door. With a murderous gleam in her eyes she closed the door, then turned to her husband who was slowly backing away from her, afraid for his life. "Now, why don't you calm down a second and-"

"Why the fuck didn't you throw her out! Did you find her more attractive than me or something?"

"You were on her before I even realized what the hell she'd said! How was I supposed to do anything? Push you off of her to be able to kick her out? Do I look that dumb to you?"

As if she didn't hear a word he said she continued on. "Oh, I get it, you were hoping for a damn threesome, you dirty pervert! As if! If you ever get the idea of touching me into your head again I'll rip that thing right off of you!"

"What the hell is up with you today!"

A knock at the door temporarily ended their argument and Ichigo gladly took the opportunity to avert her ire from him. There stood Kimiko with the terrified concubine, already getting ready for another tirade when Ichigo finally had enough.

"Don't you even dare start this shit up again. I am not getting a fucking whore, neither of us is gonna apologize, and if you treat my wife like a damn wall ornament ever again I swear I'm gonna throw you through a garganta and let the hollows have you!" With that he closed the door in their faces again, turning back around to his seething wife.

She'd crossed her arms across her chest, her eyes narrow slits as she regarded him. "Why do you refuse that woman so vehemently, huh? It's not like I compare to her."

The orange-head snorted, rolling his eyes as he walked past her to their bedroom to get some fresh clothes from the closet. "She could've just as well been a wardrobe."

"What the hell do you mean!"

"I mean that I didn't find her pretty in the slightest. Besides," he stopped shuffling through the untidy heap of clothes in the closet and turned back around to her, his voice tired and exasperated. "_You_ are my wife, Rukia, and I could never take a concubine, especially one that crazy woman chose for me because the synapses in her brain misfired."

She blinked, her hands falling to her sides as she stared at him. "How can you say that? She was beautiful!" A gasp flew from her lips when Ichigo pulled her into his tight embrace and dragged her down to sit on the bed with him as he made her sit on his lap and cuddled her.

"Well, to me you are beautiful." When his only answer was an unbelieving snort he tightened his grip around her. "You _are_ beautiful, Rukia. Your black hair is as smooth as silk," as he said that he started to run his fingers through her thick tresses, causing her to shudder as she hid her face in his chest. "Your violet eyes are magnificent," at that he tugged at her hair and forced her to look at him. "Your bankai is breathtaking, your pale skin is flawless," while he counted on he ran his lips along her swanlike neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise along the expanse of her exposed skin. His hands rubbed her sides and he started to move the collar of her yukata off her shoulder with his teeth. "And your lips are irresistible." He smashed his mouth to hers, his tongue invading and quickly dominating her hot orifice.

Rukia was too dazed to stop him from pushing her down on the mattress, his hot body heavy over hers as he quickly pulled her thin yukata off of her, his hands and mouth urgent on her. "You are the most beautiful, stunning and sexy woman in the world to me." He smirked at the crimson blush running from her cheeks down her neck and spreading over her heaving breasts.

_Tell her dammit! Tell her, you idiot!_

He locked his eyes with hers, his left hand coming up to stroke her burning cheek as he brushed his lips against hers. "Rukia, I-" He was cut off when she grabbed his face and smashed their lips together, her legs circling his waist as she pressed herself to him.

"Show me how beautiful I am to you," she dared, and confessing was the farthest from his mind after that.

**-o-**

_And jealousy strikes its ugly head! Mwhahaha!_


	9. Happiness and Table Mishaps

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**I have learned that only two things are necessary to keep one's wife happy. First, let her think she's having her own way. And second, let her have it.  
**Lyndon B. Johnson_

**-o-**

**Ninth Anniversary: **_Happiness and Table Mishaps_

**-o-**

A couple weeks had passed since the concubine debacle, and even though with every day that passed without a positive pregnancy test Kimiko was getting more and more frustrated, Ichigo and Rukia couldn't find it in themselves to care. They were happy with the way things were going between them, and even though they'd welcome it if the clan elders stopped spiking their goddamn food it was fine with them, as long as an ordeal like the busty blonde didn't occur again.

Well, at least they thought that way until a very embarrassing incident about 4 months into their marriage.

**-o-**

The tiny kitchen maid was hurriedly putting the finishing touches on the meal for the large noble party's dinner, nervously glancing at the clock at the wall as she mixed the royal couple's food with the aphrodisiac the personnel had received from a very creepy blond. As soon as the clock showed six did she slam the tiny bottle on the counter next to the food, ripped off her apron and was out of the kitchen so fast it looked like shunpo. The other maids hadn't paid any heed to what the youngest one had been doing, so when the maids that were supposed to bring the food to the dining room asked them whether the special ingredient had been added yet, they shook their heads no.

And thus the drama begins.

**-o-**

The dining room was filled with members of both the Kuchiki and the Kurosaki clan, as the elders had found it necessary to talk about the clan affairs neither of the royal couple really cared about. Instead they started digging into their food the moment it was served to them because they were both hungry and anxious to get out of there as soon as possible.

They were already halfway through their deserts when they felt the now familiar waves of heat surging through their bodies, their heads swimming as they shuddered. "It's way too early," whispered Rukia to his left as she set her hands on the tabletop, trying to control herself as she felt Ichigo's hot reiatsu enveloping her.

"Who cares," was his curt reply as he grabbed her up in his arms and smashed their lips together, his hands hurriedly tugging at the elaborate obi holding her kimono together. Neither of the two really remembered that they weren't alone, and surely didn't notice when the room went quiet. The Kurosaki dragon blinked, her mouth agape as Rukia pushed the upper part of Ichigo's robes down to his waist.

"Now that's new." Everyone's attention went to Isshin, who was unable to suppress his grin. "Maybe we should leave them alone," he proposed, and when Ichigo threw his wife on the table, pushing the glassware and food on the floor in the process, everyone quickly hurried out to give the copulating couple some privacy.

**-o-**

Kuchiki Byakuya was livid as he regarded Isshin, his hand itching to grab Senbonzakura before he remembered he had had to relinquish it at the front gate, trying to remember the most violent kidô he was capable of instead. "You have one minute to explain this."

Isshin just looked at him with a smirk, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "I really don't know, usually they wait until after dinner."

That was very helpful. "When they refused to fulfill their duties we decided it would be wise to drug them." The head of the Kuchiki clan turned towards Kimiko, his face impassive at her blunt statement. "If I hear of this occurring once more don't expect your royal status to protect you much longer." His threat hung in the air as he turned away from them, walking toward the front gate without another word.

**-o-**

Their kiss was hot and messy, and their hands were urgently grasping at their clothes. The orange-haired teenager didn't even bother undressing her fully, growling in approval as she shoved his hakama down and wrapped her legs tightly around his hips. He entered her at once, his hands shoving aside her kimono and running along the contours of her body. "I'll make you scream my fucking name." His voice was dark and hungry, and with a smirk he groped at her left breast, his tongue running along the expanse of her neck.

Rukia's hands grasped the sides of his head, turning his face back to hers and licking across his lips. "Stop talking and start acting on it, idiot." Ichigo's eyes glazed over, his rhythm increasing as he let out a deep groan. They were desperate and needy, and it didn't take long for either of them to reach their climax. Not that they cared.

**-o-**

Rukia watched as the orange-head slumped down next to her, his breathing just as ragged and uneven as hers, and she could see the sleep creeping into his eyes. She blinked. "Would you mind if I killed your dad?" Something that sounded like a choke escaped her husband, and it took her a moment to realize he was chuckling. "I'll hold him down... as soon as I can feel my limbs again, that is."

With much difficulty the black-haired woman turned onto her side, scooting closer to him and allowing him to loosely wrap his arms around her. They remained like this for a little while, and Rukia was already close to drifting to sleep when she felt Ichigo shift away from her. She frowned up at him. "Oi, I was comfortable." To her surprise did a blush spread on his cheeks, and he quickly looked away. "I just thought we should go to our room instead of sleeping on, you know, the dining table." The older shinigami blushed as well, quickly sitting up despite her protesting muscles and fixing her kimono.

**-o-**

Ichigo bit back a smirk as he watched Rukia fall on the bed face first, not bothering to change out of her clothes. Rolling his eyes he undressed except for his boxers, kneeling next to her on the soft mattress. The woman scowled into the fabric when she felt him nudge her, and growled loudly. "What?"

"You sweat through your clothes, you'll get sick if you sleep in them, you know." He jerked back when she moved her head to stare at him with her right eye, the temperature around them dropping by several degrees. "Fuck off, pervert." That only earned her a heated glare from her husband. "I'm not being a pervert! I'm concerned for your health, dammit!"

His wife turned back around. "If you're so insistent then you do it, I'm tired."

Ichigo's frown deepened. "Bitch."

There was silence for a while and neither of them moved, until Rukia finally replied.

"Baka."

**-o-**

When Ichigo blinked his eyes open he was immediately met with a disheveled mop of raven hair, his arms wrapped tightly around his wife's sleeping form. The moment he started to shift he could feel his entire body ache all over, still sore from the overdose they had had the day before. His expression morphed into one of utter annoyance as he recalled what his insane family had done to them, his reiatsu flaring around him. A low moan from his tiny wife averted his attention, and he did his best to calm himself in order not to wake her. Heck, if he was feeling like crap he could only imagine what she must feel like.

Slowly, doing his best not to wake her, he unwrapped his arms from around her, his gaze falling on the large red marks he'd left all over her neck and collarbone, his cheeks growing hot. Despite his initial embarrassment he could feel something like pride swelling up in his stomach at seeing her so thoroughly and blatantly marked by himself. Quickly turning away from her he slid off the bed, pulling on some random clothes from the open closet and stumbling out into the living room, every muscle in his body telling him to get the fuck back into bed and sleep.

The orange-head was surprised to find the kitchen personnel already up and about preparing the breakfast for the entire mansion, stopping everything they were doing in order to bow to their prince as he entered. Blushing lightly he looked around to see if the chef from the last time he had been there had shift, walking over to her. "Would you mind if I used some stuff in here?"

The old woman looked shocked at his request, stuttering. "W-were our services n-not to your liking, Ichigo-sama?"

Shaking his head the young shinigami sighed. "Well, a dinner without drugs would have been nice for a change, but that's not why I'm asking." Scratching the back of his head he averted his eyes. "I just feel uncomfortable having every single meal cooked for me like I'm somehow incapable of not setting the damn kitchen on fire."

The old kitchen chef regarded the teenager for a little while before smiling warmly. "You can use the spot over there, one of the maids called in sick today." Raising his amber eyes he saw her pointing toward a spot in the far corner of the kitchen. He allowed himself to return her smile. "Thanks."

**-o-**

When Rukia woke up she felt like the tenth Espada just sat down on her in his released form. Her entire body was numb yet felt like it was ripping apart when she did as much as breathe, let alone try to move. "When I regain my mobility I will be a widow," she growled through clenched teeth, doing her best to move her body and lie down on her back instead of on her side, a short yelp escaping her as her sore muscles stretched.

"Are you okay?" The concerned voice of her husband had her exert the effort of turning her head enough to look at him, tray full of food in his hands and brows creased even more than usual. She glared. "Do I look like I'm okay?" Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone too fast for her to find out what it was and he avoided looking at her as he sat down on the edge of their bed, the tray still in his hands.

"What's that anyways?" His voice sounded strange as he answered, and she felt a tiny twinge of guilt in her gut for being so harsh. "I figured you'd feel like crap, so I made breakfast." His eyes flashed to meet hers for a second. "If you want I can run you a bath instead." When she didn't answer he set the tray down on the nightstand, turning around and moving closer to her, his eyes obscured by his bangs. Rukia felt too weak to protest as he picked her up in his arms, careful enough that it didn't hurt, and sat her down on his lap while leaning against the headboard. She felt a blush creep on her face as she realized that she wasn't wearing anything, her arms too worn out to even attempt to cover herself.

Noticing her embarrassment Ichigo held her steady with one arm, trying his best to unbutton his shirt with the other but giving up after the third, instead ripping it open the rest of the way and shrugging out of it, mindful of not moving Rukia too much. Her blush deepened as he helped her put on his shirt, and his cheeks took on a matching hue. The orange-head was spared from breaking the silence when her stomach growled loudly, and he quickly pressed her back against the front of his chest, grabbing the tray and placing it on her lap.

Staring at the food for a few seconds she felt her face burn even fiercer. "Ichigo, could you... uhm..." The raven-head stopped mid-stutter as she watched him pick up a spoonful of the cereal and raise it to her lips wordlessly, his arm around her waist tightening. Slowly chewing on her food Rukia lowered her gaze. "Ichigo..."

"Hm?" She watched him move the spoon to her lips again and felt tears well up in her eyes. "Why are you so nice to me?" His thumb started rubbing her hip through the thin fabric of his shirt and his hot breath on her neck made her shiver. "You're my wife, and feel miserable, why shouldn't I be nice to you?" Ignoring her protesting muscles she raised her hands, grabbing his face and turning hers towards him, smashing her lips to his. The hand previously holding the spoon came up to stroke her hot cheek, his tongue coming out to caress hers lovingly.

The older shinigami broke away from their kiss, distress written all over her face. "Are you happy?"

Ichigo paused, a thoughtful expression spreading on his face as he seemed to contemplate her question. Finally locking his smoldering amber eyes with her amethyst ones he smiled at her, leaning forward to peck her lips again. "Yes, I'm happy." Returning his smile Rukia couldn't hold back the tears anymore, her voice barely a whisper as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm glad."

**-o-**

"Are you sure you can walk, Rukia?" The woman in question glared at him heatedly, jerking her arm out of his grasp as she grit her teeth, sliding off the edge of their bed and standing on wobbly legs. "I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own, Ichigo." The orange-head only raised a skeptical eyebrow as he watched his petite wife stubbornly make her way towards the door of their private chambers, her head held up high.

"You're trembling."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Shut the fuck up."

Sighing, Ichigo followed closely behind her, body tense as he watched her every move. "You're hovering."

"I'm not." Just then her legs spasmed and made her fall forward, but his arms were around her waist in an instant, pressing her flush against his body. "So you can walk on your own, huh?"

Her eyes flashed white as she let out a low growl. "Shut up."

**-o-**

When the servants placed their dinner in front of them they eyed it cautiously, and Ichigo glanced at his dad. "I swear, if this is drugged again I'll fucking murder you."

His dad waved him off. "That coward Urahara refused to supply us with more of his weird stuff when he learned of Byakuya's threat, so no worries."

"I don't trust you," at his words Isshin took out a huge folded poster of his deceased wife from his left sleeve, pressing it against the wall and wailing, causing Ichigo to rub the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "How am I related to him?"

"Suck it up and just eat." His gaze snapped to his wife who had already started munching away on her sashimi. "You barely managed to walk here on your own, how can you just eat this stuff?" A shrug was his only response. "I'm hungry."

Looking down on his own plate he sighed, reaching for his chopsticks. "Fuck it."

**-o-**

"Do you feel anything yet?" His wife's voice was loud in the silence of their dark bedroom. They were lying on their backs, just staring at the ceiling and wondering if the food had been drugged again or not. Ichigo sighed, crossing his arms behind his head. "Nope."

"How long has it been?"

He turned his head to look at the clock in the corner of the room. "About an hour, I guess we're good."

Rukia's relieved sigh had him turn towards her, a small smile appearing on his lips as he watched her ease into the soft pillows. Turning on his side he moved closer to her, his arms winding tightly around her waist as he buried his nose in her soft raven tresses, cuddling her tightly. "Rukia?"

"Hm?" Her hum vibrated through him and he had to fight off a shiver. "How about I treat you to dinner tomorrow night?" The raven hair he had his face buried in tickled his skin as she turned around in his arms, her purple eyes glimmering in the soft darkness. "Why?"

He shrugged, pecking her nose. "No reason."

Smiling shyly the shinigami nodded, burrowing deeper into his embrace. "I'd like that."

**-o-**

"So, why exactly did you want to meet me here instead of just coming here together?" To her surprise a bright blush spread on her husband's face, his brown eyes avoiding contact with her own. "I wanted to get you something before we started dinner." Rukia scowled as she watched him reach into a tiny bag next to him. That dissolved as soon as he got out the long, black velvet box and pushed it over to her on the table. "Here."

The raven-haired woman tried meeting his gaze but he was hellbent on avoiding her piercing eyes, so she focused on the gift instead, slowly opening the box. She let out a low gasp as her eyes fell on the silver necklace, the pendant a slim crescent moon, an intricate snowflake between the two tips. Her violet gaze flashed between the jewelry and her husband, before finally setting on the orange-head, who was watching her intently for a reaction.

He visibly relaxed as he saw the bright smile spread over her face, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink as she quickly took the necklace in her hand, moving to his side to give him a quick peck. Turning her back to him she motioned him to put it around her neck, and he shyly did as she asked. He didn't know what to expect after that, but certainly not his tiny wife's lips on his and her hands buried in his hair, in the middle of the freaking restaurant. As Rukia moved to detach herself from him an involuntary growl of disapproval escaped from his throat, his hands grabbing her hips and dragging her closer to him, not caring about the stares they were getting.

Finally breaking apart their kiss he nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, a smirk on his face. "I need to get you gifts more often."

Needless to say, Rukia pushed him off of her and didn't talk to him until she was through her appetizer.

"Ne... Ichigo?"

"Hm?" He didn't look up, instead focusing on cutting his steak, still sulking from her pushing him off of her and making the other customers in the restaurant snicker into their glasses and menus. "Why haven't the elders crowned us yet?"

At this his gaze snapped up, frowning. "You are being random."

Rukia glared. "I'm not." Her husband only sighed, putting his silverware down next to the plate. "Why do you ask? Hasn't Kimiko explained it to you during one of your various meetings that annoy you so much that I am even afraid to ask what happened?" Judging by her blank stare the answer to that question was a resolute no.

Sighing once again Ichigo scratched the back of his head, wondering where to begin. "When the first king died, he and his wife turned into the royal crowns that every ruling couple wear on their coronation and which basically give them their powers." His gaze flashed to her for a moment. "Chiyo is their granddaughter, and the oldest living clan member. The crowns come with a set of conditions though, and without these conditions met the next ruler and his queen cannot be officially declared the king and queen."

He could see her frown out of the corners of his eyes, and before she could ask he started again. "Only males can be crowned rulers, and only if they descended from the main blood line. Additionally, they have to be married before the coronation, the wife being unable to rule on her own in case her husband deceases, and the ceremony can only be held if at least one more male from the main line exists who hasn't denied the regality." Taking a breath he finally found the courage to keep his gaze locked to hers.

"Once denied one is unable to ever accept the royal dignity again. My father denied it, and my uncle, the former king, died before his wife could give birth to a son, leaving me as the only heir of the main blood line. That's why Kimiko is adamant about us having a son, Rukia, because until then we cannot claim the throne, and Soul Society as well as all the other worlds are out of balance."

His wife was quite for a little while, mulling over everything she had been told, before speaking up again. "That's sexist." Ichigo didn't really know what he expected Rukia to say, but definitely not that. "Excuse me?"

She gestured with her right hand. "All this shit about only males allowed to rule, and their wives not allowed to take over if their husbands die, what the hell? You can't tell me this isn't sexist."

The orange-head's face fell. "Is that all you got out of this?"

"Are you okay with this crap?"

"Of course not," he snorted. "But remember when all this was established. And considering the fact that the crowns are laced with extremely strong kidô I highly doubt we can abolish any of it by simply declaring it unfair." Noticing her glare he sighed. "I'm not saying that I think this is okay in any way, but considering no one knowns how that kidô even works I highly doubt you or anybody else would be able to break it."

In an attempt to raise her sour mood he took her left hand in his own, smiling at her. "You'll just have to settle for ruling over the guy who rules everything else." When she didn't react the way he wanted her to he started poking her forehead. "Oi, I just basically said that you'll indirectly rule over all things living and dead, where's the evil cackle when I ask for it?"

Doing her best to suppress her amused smile Rukia removed her hand from his and focused back on her steak. "In that case, I order you to shut up and eat your food."

He returned the smile despite her not looking at him. "As your Highness wishes."

**-o-**

_To all those who are waiting for love confessions... I will make you wait so long, you'll wonder if I'm Kubo's new apprentice! HA!_

_And I had troubles with the "lemon" in this one, and after a month of having no clue on how to write a good one just decided to drop the case and end it in 2 paragraphs, sorry about that! Writer's Block is a bitch..._


	10. Affections and Invitations

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.  
**Christian Nestell Bovee_

**-o-**

**Tenth Anniversary: **_Affections and Invitations_

**-o-**

Few people knew this, but Ichigo wasn't a morning person, and no, his father didn't help his attitude regarding mornings one bit. He loved sleeping in, and whoever woke him would face an untimely demise.

Well, with the exception for Rukia.

"Wake up, you idiot!" She didn't wait to see if he'd actually get up, instead she promptly pushed him off the bed and onto the hard wooden floor, a smug grin on her face, and it only grew wider when she saw his heated glare. Kneeling down on the mattress she ruffled his unruly orange hair with her right hand, snickering. "We've got some special visitors, _dear_."

Yes, Rukia was the exception. Not because he loved her, although that definitely was a benefiting factor. She was the exception because she could, and most likely _would_, kick his ass into the next millennium if he pissed her off too much. That was why, even though he had the strong urge to wrap her in their blanket like a living sushi roll so she couldn't move and he could continue sleeping until well past noon, he got up and begrudgingly dressed himself, doing his best to ignore her self-satisfied grin.

"Good boy."

_Shut up._

**-o-**

Yawning loudly Ichigo threw his tiny, way-too-chipper wife an annoyed sideways glare, wondering where his backbone went. "So, who are these special guests you woke me up for?"

Rukia only continued humming, a broad smile on her face. "You'll see." Ignoring her husband's annoyed murmur she skipped on ahead, his right arm tight in her grip. She dragged him the last few meters to the mansion's entrance, biting her tongue to not burst out laughing when Ichigo saw just who was visiting them. Looking back and forth between their guests and his smirking wife he finally settled for the midget. "You were enjoying this, weren't you?"

"You have no idea." With that she pushed him forward, the orange-head almost tripping over his own feet as he stumbled towards his friends. He smiled against his will, genuinely happy to see them again. "Hey, guys."

Tatsuki rolled her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. "Eloquent as always." Ichigo's gaze snapped to her in an instant, and he was just about to give her an angry reply, when his gaze fell on the orange-haired healer, his enthusiasm dulling slightly. He still hadn't forgotten what happened before his and Rukia's wedding, and a part of him was still pissed. Sensing the drop in his mood Rukia quickly walked up beside him, putting her hand on his back in an attempt to calm him. "How about we have some tea, guys?"

**-o-**

Rukia's cheeks were flaming red as she felt her husband inch ever closer to her, her left hand tightly grasped in his right. Ever since the group sat down in the large living room Ichigo had gotten extremely clingy.

And it not only unnerved her, but also their friends.

Slightly inching away from the orange-head and taking her hand out of his she smiled at her friends, doing her best to avoid thinking about just how _nice_ he smelled. "So, how is it going in Karakura? We haven't been able to talk since the reception." As the others started recounting their past months Ichigo once again inched closer to her, and Rukia didn't know whether to feel insulted or embarrassed when he rested his head on hers, his hand once again reaching for hers. Her violet gaze met the red band around his wrist, the faint glow casting a light pink light on her pale skin. When her husband started nuzzling her hair she took it as her signal to get as far away from him as possible.

The young prince jerked back as Rukia jumped up, a bright blush spreading on her face and down her neck. Rukia coughed, her voice cracking as she slowly moved towards the door. "I just noticed that we don't have any snacks... I-I'll go get us something to eat." With that she practically bolted out of the room leaving a disgruntled Ichigo in her wake. He ran a hand through his wild hair before turning back to his friends, blinking at their confused expressions. "What?"

"Have you been in a brain coma for the past half an hour?" Ishida's incredulous voice caused Ichigo to frown. "What do you mean?"

Before any of them were able to inquire more Rukia came back, and Ichigo went right back to puppy-mode.

**-o-**

After many futile attempts of pushing her clingy husband off of her Kurosaki Rukia finally resigned to her fate and let him cuddle her all he wanted. And he took full advantage of it. The black-haired woman rubbed her temple in exasperation while the young prince cuddled her into his chest, his nose happily buried in her hair, oblivious to how uncharacteristically he was acting. All he could really think about was her, to him, breathtaking scent. _Never noticed that she smells like orchids... I gotta mass-order whatever shampoo she's using..._

He jerked back a little when his tiny wife jabbed him with her elbow, glowering at him over her shoulder, her face as red as a tomato. "Will you at least listen to your friends? It took us ages to convince the elders to let them visit, you jerk." The orange-head blinked repeatedly, his head clearing a little and the glow of his wedding band receding slightly. "Huh?" Shaking his head he ran his hand through his hair. "Sorry, I... I feel a little weird. I'll be right back." The others only stared after him as he quickly rushed out of the living room. It took them a few seconds to get over their initial surprise, and it was Rukia who stood up, going after the orange-head with a frown on her face.

**-o-**

Ichigo stood bend over the sink in the bathroom he shared with his wife, splashing water on his face. _What the fuck is wrong with me today? I mean, sure, she smells better than usual, but this is just ridiculous. _Looking up at the mirror he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. _The moment I get close to her I devolve into some lovesick puppy. On the other hand... she just smells so nice all of a sudden. I can't help but feel all happy and affectionate._ Sighing again he turned around to get back to his friends only to come face to face with his wife, already bracing himself against turning into a clingy puppy. When nothing happened the two relaxed visibly and Ichigo took her hand in his. "Sorry about my behavior, I don't know what got into me."

To his genuine surprise did Rukia just smile at him, pecking his cheek. "Just try to stay normal from now on... or at least your definition of normal, okay?"

"Ehh? What's that supposed to mean, midget? Huh?" Poking her forehead he unconsciously dragged her closer, getting in her face.

"It means you're abnormal, idiot." Seeing him swoop down to kiss her she quickly turned around, grinning when she heard him fall face-first onto the floor. "Now hurry up and spend time with your friends, baka."

**-o-**

It took all of Ichigo's willpower to not smother Rukia the moment they entered the living room again, her scent intensifying more and more the longer they were around the others. Sighing, he begrudgingly scooted away from his wife because he could already feel the urge to cuddle her senseless again. _Why doesn't she feel like this?_

What he didn't know was that she _did_ feel the same, but unlike him she had some semblance of self-control left.

Although it was holding on by a thin thread only.

"Right, before I forget about it again!" Every pair of eyes in the room turned to Mizuiro as he started to rummage through the backpack he had brought with him. Finally finding what he had been looking for he handed a stack of envelopes to the group, smiling brightly. Rukia frowned at the navy blue envelope. "Why do Ichigo and I only get one?"

The young playboy waved her off, tilting his head to the side. "You two are married, silly, why would you get two invites?"

She frowned deeper. "Invite?"

Keigo jumped at his friend, tears running down his cheeks like waterfalls. "You finally invited me to one of your birthday parties? I can't believe iiiit!"

"Please calm down, Asano-san."

"Why so formal!"

Purple eyes started to sparkle. "Birthday party? I have never been to one!" Turning to Ichigo she practically began to glow. "I wanna go!" The orange-head raised an eyebrow at her antics. "Ask the Elders, it's not like I have any say on the matter anyways. I'm not suicidal enough to disagree with you." His wife was gone in a flash, and for once in his life he felt sorry for Kimiko.

_Rukia's gonna kick her ass._

**-o-**

That evening, long after their friends had returned to Karakura, Ichigo was lying on their bed, reading one of the books their friends had given them as wedding gifts, waiting for Rukia to be done in the bathroom so they could go to sleep. When she finally entered their bedroom in her pajamas, her hair wet and clinging to her skin, he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not sure I really want to know but... how exactly did you convince that dragon of a woman to let us go to the party without bodyguards?"

Her smirk sent shivers of fright down his spine as she sat down on the edge of their bed. "You're right, you don't want to know." With that she took the book out of his hands and gave him a quick peck on his cheek, turning off the light on her nightstand. "Stop thinking so hard, Ichigo, it might start to hurt."

Ignoring her snide reply he continued to stare at her while she curled herself into a tiny ball under the covers. They remained like this for a few more moments until Rukia grumbled at him. "Turn off the damn light."

Once again he ignored her remark. "So, you've never been to a birthday party?" His wife let out an exasperated sigh and sat up again. "Yes, after a few decades you kind of stop caring so no one really feels the need to do a party. The last time anyone's birthday was celebrated was Hitsugaya-taichô's a few years back, and you can't call 4 people watching fireworks a party."

Ichigo knew his next question would probably lead to severe bodily harm, but his curiosity was piqued. "Rukia... how old are you really?" Just like he expected did a bright blush spread over her face and neck down to her collarbone, her right hand balling into a fist. Unlike their usual squabbles, however, he caught her fist before she could hit him, smirking at her surprised face. "I just want to make sure that your cake has enough candles for _your_ birthday party, _dear._"

He was surprised that her head didn't explode from all the blood rushing to her face. "I'll turn seventy in January." The orange-head raised an eyebrow. "When we met you said you were ten times my age." When her blush darkened even more his face fell and he let go of her fist. "Are you for real?"

"I had no frame of reference, you idiot! All I knew was that humans age faster than souls!"

"You thought I was six years old!"

"And you slept with a woman you thought was a hundred and fifty, now who's the bigger idiot?"

"Considering 70 still makes you an old hag, I'd still say you." He knew he deserved the fist in his stomach this time.

**-o-**

Kurosaki Ichigo awoke to the feeling of soft lips ghosting along his jawline. Blinking slowly it took his brain a few minutes to catch up with his eyes, his brows furrowing. "What are you doing?"

His wife jerked into a sitting position, glaring at him. "Is that all you can say when I take the time to wake you up in a nice way for a change?" The tiny woman crossed her arms over her chest and averted her gaze, a small blush spreading on her cheeks. "I just thought you'd have a better mood in the morning if I woke you up like that, is all." She snapped her gaze around when Ichigo wrapped his right arm around her petite frame, dragging her closer to his chest, a smirk on his face. Before she was able to say anything Ichigo had already pressed his lips to hers, his left hand tangling in her raven locks. Breaking their liplock the orange-head smirked even broader, moving to her neck. "I feel like you had something else in mind when you decided that."

The raven-head pushed against his chest. "As if." Ichigo pouted, nuzzling her cheek. "Come on, it's been a few days."

"Then go take a shower and take care of yourself, idiot." She felt his hands rub her back through the thin silk of her nightgown and barely managed to suppress a shudder. "But I want to take care of my wife, too." The two stared at each other for a few seconds and she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest again. "You're turning into a complete pervert."

"Says the woman that practically jumped me."

Rukia spluttered, blushing more furiously. "That was once!"

"Your point?"

Growling lowly Rukia did the only thing that came to mind in order to wipe the smug grin off of his face. She kissed him, pushing him down onto their bed. Considering her earlier reluctance the young prince was taken aback by her sudden aggression, her hands tugging his shirt off of him before his back even met the mattress. Her hot hands rubbed across his chest, her body melding into his and a loud moan tearing from her throat. She trailed her lips along his strong jaw, her tongue darting out to trace the shell of his ear. "I thought you wanted to take care of me?"

**-o-**

Outside of their door a maid stood, her eyes watching the hands of her watch timidly. She didn't want to risk knocking before eight, to make sure her prince wouldn't rip off her head again for being woken up "too early". With a sigh she finally knocked, calling out to the young couple through the door. "You need to get ready! The meeting with the family begins shortly!"

She was only met with silence.

**-o-**

Ichigo watched his tiny wife bounce up and down on top of him, his eyes transfixed on her sweaty body. He absolutely loved it when she wanted to be the dominant one in their little trysts. Smirking, he reached up to cup one of her breasts, kneading it softly in his palm while Rukia increased her speed. Bending over him she pressed her lips to his, their tongues battling fiercely. Eventually, the orange-head relented, letting her have her fun.

After all, he had his, too.

**-o-**

The maid had waited patiently for fifteen minutes, occasionally knocking and calling out to the royal couple, before she decided to risk it. Taking a deep, shaky breath the young woman slid the door to their private rooms open, taking a few, tentative steps inside and slowly advancing to their closed bedroom door.

In retrospect, she guessed, she should have listened more closely, and she might have been able to hear the deep, throaty moans coming from the room.

But she hadn't listened closely.

So, when she slid the door to their bedroom open, she was met with the sight of the future king and queen of Soul Society going at it like rabbits.

Her poor virgin eyes.

**-o-**

Rukia suddenly froze, looking in the direction of the door, a frown on her face. "Did you hear something?"

"You imagined it." Her husband was already fidgeting underneath her again, urging her to keep going, and with a sigh she turned back to him, a playful smirk on her face.

The maid had already hightailed it from there.

**-o-**

"They're late." Hearing Kimiko grumble this once more, Isshin wondered how rich he would be if he got one yen every time she said this.

_I could probably buy a yacht by now_, he thought sourly, yawning. "They'd probably be on time if the meetings weren't held at dawn."

"It's eight thirty!"

"Exactly."

The heads of everyone in the room, both Kurosakis and Kuchikis, turned towards the traumatized maid as she entered the large meeting room. A black, delicate brow rose as the sixth division captain regarded her. "Is something the matter?"

"Well... I am afraid Ichigo-sama and Rukia-sama won't be joining you for a while."

The Kurosaki dragon slammed her right fist on the table, scaring the young maid. "Go drag them here if you have to, I don't care if they are too tired!"

"I... I'm sorry, but I didn't say they are _tired_. They are... well... busy."

Before any of the assmbled Elders could inquire further one Kurosaki Isshin broke into loud, boisterous laughter.

**-o-**

With a last, drawn-out moan did Rukia fall on top of her husband, her face against his sweaty chest. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she felt his fingers comb through her wet locks, his left arm wrapped tightly and possessively around her slim waist. His chest vibrated as he spoke up, his voice dark and raspy. "Say... why did you wake me up anyways? Did we have plans?"

Rukia felt the blood freeze in her veins. "Shit."

**-o-**

"Well, it seems like they have forgotten about us, I say we reschedule the meeting." Closing his gray eyes the head of the Kuchiki clan moved to stand up, not really keen on meeting his sister and her _husband_ right after... taking care of their marital duties.

Once really was enough in his opinion.

Just when the others were ready to follow his example the door to the meeting hall opened, Ichigo and Rukia standing in the doorway, both wearing sweat pants and lose shirts, still covered in sweat. Isshin smirked at their appearances. "So you had time working on my grandkids, but not to change your clothes?"

Two bare feet connected with his smugly grinning face, the married couple having had the same thought. The orange-head cracked his knuckles as he started to smirk himself. "Now you know why we're wearing pants, you bastard."

"If you are done beating up my good-for-nothing nephew can we _finally_ start this meeting?" Kimiko pinned the two Shinigami with a withering stare, both sitting down with an equally heated glare.

The meeting went on for a while, and after the first couple of minutes Ichigo barely managed to even understand what the hell the old geezers were talking about. His eyes began to droop, and the thought of taking a short nap felt heavenly.

Kurosaki Rukia did her best to ignore it, but her cheeks still started to blush red when her husband fell asleep, his head landing on her lap with a soft thud. She tried to keep a straight face while shaking his shoulders, whispering through her teeth for him to wake up, but to no avail. Instead he grumbled lowly, turning around on her lap, pressing his face against her abdomen and worsening her blush tenfold.

The young wife just wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

**-o-**

_Yes, I was being a tease this time, deal with it._


	11. Let's Party!

**The Nightmare That Is Marriage**

**-o-**

_**Let us now set forth one of the fundamental truths about marriage: the wife is in charge.  
**Bill Cosby_

**-o-**

**Eleventh Anniversary: **_Let's Party!_

**-o-**

Ichigo sat in the living room with one of his favorite books in front of him. He was impatiently drumming his fingers on the tabletop as he waited for his wife to finally be finished in the bathroom so that they could start to pack their stuff for Mizuiro's party.

But of course nothing in his life could ever go according to plan.

"Fuck dammit!" Sighing, Ichigo slowly stood up and went to the bathroom door where Rukia's scream had come from. _She sure started to curse a lot lately. _Hesitating slightly he knocked on the door. "Are you okay in there?"

"Do I sound like I'm okay?" The orange-head bit his tongue before he could say anything that would get him killed, swallowed thickly and tried again. "Can I help you?" When she threw the door open he flinched back, wondering what he did wrong this time. "Does this look like you can help?"

Frowning, he straightened back up. "What are you talking about? You look perfectly fine."

The tiny woman threw her arms up in the air. "Are you kidding me?" She grabbed some strands of her hair in her left hand and tugged at it. "Look at this shit!" When her desired reaction didn't come she turned back around and stomped into the bathroom.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Turning her attention back to him she sighed, her hands grasping her hair again. "I'm getting curls!"

_Okay, am I in a bad sitcom? Because I feel like I'm in a bad sitcom. _"Has no one ever told you to stay away from funny-looking mushrooms when you were a kid?" He fully expected the kick to the shin. "Shut up!"

Hobbling into the bathroom after her the orange-head wondered just what was going on with his midget-wife lately. She was fussing over things she never would have paid a second thought to and started cursing like a sailor. "Will you tell me why you're throwing a fit over something as trivial as your hair structure?" The tiny woman sighed and slumped slightly in front of the mirror, averting her eyes.

"I'm just nervous, is all." Frowning, the young prince grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, trying to meet her eyes. "You've spent time with my friends before. Besides, I suspect that most of them like you more than me anyways." The shadow of a smile ghosted over her lips. "Well, it's not like I'm particularly good at normal things." Finally meeting his eyes she tried to smile. "And not having to train or fight for my life kind of leaves me with too much time on my hands to worry about insignificant things."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "It's not that you're bad at normal things, it's just that you're not normal period." This time he avoided her kick, smirking at her. "And if you have too much time on your hands, how about you take up a hobby, like _normal_ people?" He watched his wife sigh and turn back to the mirror, frowning. "And I still think it looks like crap."

"You're seriously beginning to get on my nerves, you know? I think it looks pretty at any rate, not that you value my opinion too much anyhow."

The orange-head was about to turn around when he felt her grab his right wrist, the red mark prickling slightly at her touch. "I do value your opinion." Snorting lowly under his breath he put his free hand on her head and ruffled her hair, partly to annoy her and partly because he wanted to see her indignant expression at his demeaning gesture. Instead of that he only got a blush. "Then listen to it, midget."

With that he left her alone in the bathroom, wondering what it really was that had her this anxious. _She'll tell me when she's ready._

**-o-**

"Irasshaimase!" Ichigo's left eye twitched the moment he stepped out of the senkaimon and heard Urahara's overtly enthusiastic greeting. The blond shopowner took a few steps back when he noticed the dark glare the orange-head was sending his way, swallowing thickly. "You're lucky Rukia made me promise not to hurt you."

Letting out a sigh of relief Urahara grabbed Rukia's hands and smiled at her, at the verge of tears. "Thank you so much, Kurosa-" He was cut of by her right fist in his face, breaking his nose. The former shinigami captain held his bleeding face, tears now running down his cheeks. "Why?"

"What a stupid question. I told him not to hurt you so that I could." With that the petite woman walked past him to the changing room where their gigai were placed for them, the bag with her clothes in her left hand. "That's what you get for helping my idiot of a father", was all Ichigo said before he followed his wife, leaving a weeping Urahara behind.

**-o-**

The young prince was looking at himself in the mirror, fixing the collar of his shirt with a light frown. _I'm surprised she didn't make me wear something ridiculous_. Because Rukia had taken ages to settle for something to wear to the party he had eventually told her to pick his outfit for the night, while he'd choose hers, to save time. To his surprise she chose a pair of black jeans and a dark red shirt, something he would be comfortable in for the evening. After straightening his collar he went to roll up the sleeves to his elbows, only to hear Rukia yell out from behind the curtain. "You motherfucking pervert!"

The tiny she-devil rushed out from behind the curtain, her face as red as his shirt and her brows furrowed in a furious scowl. She was wearing a tight, dark blue denim skirt that reached just above her knees and a white shirt that was cropped to fall off on her shoulders, the sleeves reaching her elbows. In her right hand she clutched a pair of black stilettos that she was now angrily waving at him as if she was planning to stab his eyes out with the heels. "As if I'll go to the party like this!"

Rolling his eyes he snatched the shoes out of her hands to prevent any injuries on his part. "I chose something I thought would look good on you, and it does, I don't know what you're complaining about."

"This is utterly indecent!"

"It's not, it's probably prudish compared to what half of Mizuiro's friends will wear." He held the heels out to her again. "Now finish up, we're running late, midget."

**-o-**

The entire way to Mizuiro's place they didn't exchange a word, Rukia blushing and still seething, Ichigo desperate not to look at her legs.

Really, he should have just made her wear a pair of pants.

They finally came to a halt in front of the door of the large apartment, loud music sounding through the thin walls. Rukia frowned. "Should we ring the doorbell?" Her husband snorted. "As if these idiots will hear it." With that he pushed the door open, only for Mizuiro and Keigo to immediately grab him by his arms and drag him into the crowd, leaving Rukia alone in the doorway. She sighed. "And on into the fray, I guess."

**-o-**

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His friends were just smirking at him as they pushed him onto a white couch in one corner of the living room that wasn't occupied by smooching couples and pushed a glass of whiskey in his hands. "Why, we're just catching up, of course!" The orange-head glared at his ever-chipper friends, begrudgingly taking a sip from his drink.

"You left Rukia there."

"Well, we can't have her police your answers." Ichigo just rolled his eyes in response to Mizuiro's ridiculous answer. "Now you have me afraid of your questions."

"Knowing these two, you have every reason to, Kurosaki." The person in question turned his head to see Ishida and Chad join them on the group of seats. "What, you here to watch me squirm?" The evil smirk from the Quincy was all the answer he needed, and he only wondered why Chad would leave him hanging like this. Letting out a tired sigh Ichigo leaned back and resigned to his fate. "Shoot."

**-o-**

After having been pushed around countless times Rukia was finally able to make out a few familiar faces, but not exactly welcome ones. She normally wasn't one to avoid confrontation, but she couldn't bring herself to lock eyes with the busty orange-head in front of her, her words still ringing in her ears after months. Finally taking a deep breath she forced herself to smile. "Ne, Inoue, how are your studies going?"

**-o-**

Amber-colored eyes were averted to the side as the young prince blushed lightly. "What do you care?"

The young playboy smirked. "You're the first of us to get married, we're just... _curious_." Scratching the back of his head Ichigo gulped. "She... kinda likes it rough." They had insisted on pushing new drinks into his hands for the past fifteen minutes in the hopes of loosening his tongue, and they finally succeeded. "She'd never admit it, though." Mizuiro raised an eyebrow. "Now that's a surprise."

Blushing deeply, Ichigo coughed into his hand. "Sometimes she gets a bit... forceful, too." At their questioning glances he dragged the collar of his shirt to the side to reveal fresh scratch marks on his chest, not meeting their eyes. "You satisfied? Kami, if she finds out I told you that-"

"Told them what?"

A cold shudder of fear ran down his spine as he heard his wife's voice behind him. Ichigo slowly turned his head around to see her next to Inoue and Tatsuki behind the couch. His muscles relaxed as he saw her curious expression, not a hint of her I-will-kill-you-until-you-die-from-it-glare to be seen. Quickly catching his composure he stood up and lightly touched her arm. "I was only telling them about that time you almost turned my grandaunt into an icicle, is all. I just thought you wouldn't like them knowing you lost your cool like that."

Ishida had a hard time suppressing his laughter. "Not even a year into marriage and he's already lying to her with a straight face", he whispered under his breath, making the other three smirk into their drinks. Throwing the Quincy a withering glare he quickly grabbed his wife's wrist, dragging her toward the kitchen that had been appropriated as a bar for the night. "Let's get you a drink."

**-o-**

"Kurosaki-san! You look wonderful tonight!" The woman in question blushed as she tried to scoot away from Keigo on the cramped couch, her Gin Thai clutched tightly in her left hand. "Ah... you think so?"

The brunette nodded enthusiastically, skillfully ignoring his friends dark glare across the petite woman's head. "Do you really find it appropriate to be all over someone else's wife like that, Keigo?" The young man kept ignoring the orange-head as he continued to fawn over Rukia, who was sitting halfway on Ichigo's lap in an attempt to get away from the unwanted advances. Violet eyes widened in surprise when Keigo's face suddenly scrunched up, drenched in scotch. She turned around, Ichigo's arm still outstretched. "Oops, my bad."

The young woman stared on blankly as he took her half-empty glass out of her hand, lightly nudging her off of him. "I'll get us refills." A frown spread over her face as she watched him make his way through the crowd. Sighing, she turned back to their group of friends. "I was hoping spending time with you would brighten his mood a bit."

"He seemed to enjoy himself before Keigo started being a dumbass", said Tatsuki, throwing him a nasty glare. "Isn't it kind of a rule to not hit on your friend's girl or something?"

"I wasn't hitting on her! It was just supposed to be a joke!" He turned to the black-haired shinigami. "You know it was just meant to be a joke, right, Kurosaki-san?" Rukia frowned. "Well, yeah." Turning back toward the crowd the orange-head had disappeared in she frowned deeper. "I'll be right back, guys."

**-o-**

Scowling heavily Ichigo put the two glasses on the counter of Mizuiro's kitchen and reached for the bottle of scotch that stood there, refilling his glass that still had a couple of ice cubes left in it, before moving to mix Rukia's drink. While he was shaking the steel case to blend the different liquids he felt a person move next to him. Upon turning his head he was met with a tall, black-haired woman with extremely long nails that were gleaming in the dim lighting. "Is that drink supposed to be for me?"

The young prince was slightly taken aback, before he returned his attention to the two glasses, keeping watch of her hands out of the corner of his eyes. "No, it's for my wife."

"Oh? You seem awfully young to be married."

He threw her a short glance, annoyed that she was still pestering him. "I went to high school with Mizuiro."

The woman clapped her hands together, faking excitement. "That must be one special woman to get you committed to her this early!"

"Well, am I special, Ichigo?" The two turned around at the new voice, Ichigo letting out a soft sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to spend more time with the woman. "Rukia. I was just about to come back." With that he quickly filled the drink into her glass and put it into her hand, wanting to leave the kitchen as fast as possible. "What, you're his wife? You got to be kidding me."

Rukia narrowed her eyes, and Ichigo swore the room temperature just dropped by twenty degrees. "Do you have a problem with that?" Feeling her rising reiatsu the orange-head quickly grabbed her wrist and dragged her after him out of the kitchen. They didn't get far before Rukia stopped walking, halting him. "Finish your drink."

Turning around to his wife he frowned. "What?" He watched her down her drink in one go, setting the empty glass on a nearby table. "Finish your drink." Watching her wearily he quickly downed his drink as well, coughing lightly. Before he knew what was going on she had grabbed his collar and smashed their lips together, practically devouring his mouth. Mind slightly fuzzy from the alcohol all he could really think to do was let her do as she pleased, following her as she opened the door to a nearby closet and dragging him in.

Some feet off their friends were starting to wonder where the two were, Mizuiro turning around just in time to see the two stumble into his utility closet and close the door behind them. "Well, I think they're busy."

"And what makes you think that?" He smirked. "I think I just saw an example of Kurosaki-san being... _forceful_."

**-o-**

With a low growl the tiny shinigami pushed her husband against the back wall of the small utility closet she had dragged him into, her hands entangled in his hair and her lips pressed against his. She could feel his hands on her hips and his want for her against her abdomen, a sigh of approval escaping her as she slowly moved her hands to unbutton his shirt, her right leg moving against his. The dazed orange-head wondered what had gotten into her, but didn't really find it in himself to care as she finally finished the last button of his shirt and pushed it off of him, her nails raking across his skin and leaving red marks.

His left hand left her waist to touch her breast through her thin top, his right hand grabbing her thigh and squeezing it roughly. Rukia was meanwhile busily unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down, hastily dragging her skirt down as well. The orange-head's eyes widened slightly when she wrapped her legs around his waist, grabbing his shoulders and locking her eyes with his. "Am I supposed to do everything on my own here?" When her husband just stared at her she growled lowly, smashing their lips back together.

Finally snapping out of his daze the young prince grabbed her thighs in his hands again, turning them around to press Rukia against the closet wall, angling his head to the side to deepen their kiss. Grunting, the orange-head took a hold of her panties, dragging them down her slim legs. With a relieved sigh he finally pushed into her, her nails raking over his scalp. Ichigo wanted to move slowly, taking his time to enjoy their coupling, but his tiny wife would have none of it.

Her lips left his, moving to his neck and biting down, leaving a dark hickey. "Go faster, you idiot." When he didn't immediately comply with her demand she growled again, her nails scratching his back impatiently. Smirking, he finally complied, trailing soft kisses along her neck and collarbone. "You're impatient."

"And you're insufferable." With a low chuckle he bit her shoulder lightly, leaving a hickey to match his and share their embarrassment that was to come. His thrusts became faster and harder, Rukia's head resting on his shoulder as she moaned in his ear. Feeling his end close her grabbed the back of her head in his right hand, kissing her one more time before he felt her come around him.

**-o-**

Ichigo was leaning against the wall of the closet, his tiny wife still sitting on his lap and her head resting in the crook of his neck. He had his left hand entangled in her sweaty black hair, his right hand stroking her back slowly. Her soft voice startled him as she suddenly spoke up. "A few days ago... I thought I was pregnant." His grip around her tightened. "Isane-san ran a couple tests and it turned out I wasn't." A wry chuckle came out of her. "I dunno why it upset me so much. I guess it just felt like Kimiko ended up being right after all."

The orange-head bit his lip, before finally speaking up. "Did Isane-san check-"

"I'm not. Not entirely, at least." Sensing his confusion she moved his hand underneath her top to rest on the three scars left by Nejibana what felt like ages ago. "There is some residual scar tissue. She said it's gonna be a bit difficult for me to get pregnant." Another wry chuckle escaped her. "'A bit difficult', she says. I bet that's doctor speak for 'dream on'."

"It's doctor speak for 'you aren't Chappy the rabbit'." He ignored her punch in his stomach, instead dragging her a bit closer. "Everything will be fine."

Her slim arms wrapped around his neck. "I hope you're right."

**-o-**

Ichigo was glowering at his friend who was smirking into his beer, the one visible eye fixed on the orange-head's neck. "Shut up."

"I wasn't saying anything."

"Your smirk said enough already, Chad." Scratching the back of his neck Ichigo averted his eyes. "Rukia has been pretty upset lately." Looking back at Chad he sighed. "My grandaunt is giving her a really hard time and I don't know how to help her."

"You know her better than me, I'm sure you can figure something out."

Ichigo sighed again. _What was I expecting, he is just as clueless as me when it comes to cheering people up._

A sudden scream and splashing water made the two turn around. "That sounded like Rukia."

**-o-**

When Ichigo stepped onto the balcony of Mizuiro's large apartment he stopped dead in his tracks. Rukia was in the middle of the whirlpool, drenched from head to toe and struggling to get her bearings long enough to get out, her face flushed from alcohol. He only got out of his stupor when Mizuiro tapped his shoulder, handing him a towel. Mumbling a quick thanks he ran over to his wife to help her out of the bubbling water, quickly starting to rub her dry and keep her front turned toward his chest as her shirt had started to become see-through. "How did you end up in there?"

Violet eyes flashed toward someone behind him, and he quickly followed her line of sight before she could move it away, only to lock eyes with a very pale Inoue, biting her lip and quickly lowering her gaze. "Kurosaki-kun... it was just an accident. I bumped into her and-"

"Shut up." Their friends, who had gathered around them in the meantime, became quiet. Ichigo had let go of the towel and turned toward the orange-haired woman, his bangs obscuring his eyes. "I haven't said anything so far because I thought it was something that only concerned you and Rukia, but you're going way too far." He raised his eyes, glaring at the healer. "First you tell my wife to kill herself because we were forced to marry, and now you push her into a fucking whirlpool, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Kurosaki-kun, I-"

"I said shut the fuck up." Inoue took a step back at his harsh voice. "I get that your feelings are hurt because Rukia and I are married, but let me spell this out for you. Even if none of this had happened I would have never had any interest in you. You constantly say how you want to stop relying on everyone but end up crying for help two minutes later. I can only imagine how much you'd depend on your boyfriend and frankly, I wouldn't have the nerve for that. So stop blaming Rukia for something that isn't her fault and stupidly directing your anger and jealousy at her. It's already bad enough I have to beat Renji up every other day because he's being an idiot."

Before Inoue could speak up again he took Rukia's hand in his and dragged her off the balcony and toward the door. Rukia, having sobered up a little from the unwanted shower, knew better than to try and calm him down.

Their way back to the shôten was quiet at first, his stride having slowed down slightly after two blocks. Seeing his tense back relax slightly Rukia finally decided to speak up. "Are you gonna talk to Inoue?"

"No. It's your place to smooth things over with her. I only got angry on your behalf."

Sighing, Rukia threw him an annoyed glance. "You're unreasonable."

"No. If I really was unreasonable I'd go back and repeatedly dunk her head underwater."

The tiny woman pressed her hand against her forehead. _You're an idiot._

**-o-**

_So, going by my notes, we are about halfway through, unless something changes during the course of my writing. I hope none of you found the whirlpool scene too weird or mean toward Inoue, but going by your reviews to the wedding chapter, it seems you don't like Inoue much more than I do (which is to say, not at all). But, as I try not to let my personal feelings interfere too much, I'll give her... some sort of closure, eventually._


End file.
